The First Inhabitant of the New Moon
by kazooband
Summary: After visiting the Planet of the Ood, Donna needs her faith in humanity restored, and the Doctor knows just where to take her. A story about adventure, sacrifice, and the consequences of a mistimed look, where history is in the future.
1. Eve

Disclaimer: All I own here are my ideas. The fantastic world of Doctor Who belongs to someone else, as do the songs of U2 and The Beatles. I'm just playing with the characters, and promise to put everything back where I found it.

Summary: After visiting the Planet of the Ood, Donna needs her faith in humanity restored, so the Doctor takes her to the beginning of Earth's new age of exploration. A story about adventure, sacrifice, and the consequences of a mistimed look, where history is in the future.

Spoilers: The Fires of Pompeii and Planet of the Ood.

**New Moon**

**Chapter 1: Eve**

"Are you alright?" the Doctor asked from his seat, lounging with his feet propped up on the console.

"'Course," Donna replied tritely. She was seated against the opposite wall. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"If you say so," the Doctor said skeptically, "but if you keep frowning like that your face will stick that way."

"Will not," Donna replied, rubbing her cheek.

"No," the Doctor admitted, "well, maybe. You never know what we're flying through."

"It's just," Donna sighed finally, standing up, "is that all we have to look forward to, us humans? A civilization built on slavery and a population too complacent to admit it?"

"Not all, no," the Doctor replied carefully, getting to his feet as well.

"But that's part of it," Donna lamented.

"Sure," the Doctor admitted, turning a knob on the console. "You humans make a lot of mistakes, you do a lot of terrible things, and you do a lot of great things. That's just part of being human."

He reached for a button beside him then hesitated.

"I wish it didn't have to be," Donna maintained.

"I suppose I've shown you too many of the terrible things," the Doctor said inwardly, and slapped his hand down on the button. The TARDIS shivered. "Grab a coat," he added aloud, pulling on his own and bounding for the door.

"We just went to a cold place," Donna complained, grabbing her coat off a pillar and following anyway. "I was hoping for a beach."

"Watch your step," the Doctor added, as though Donna hadn't spoken, opening the door and stepping outside.

"What for?" Donna asked, pausing at the doorway. "I don't see anything to trip over."

In truth, she couldn't see much of anything at all; the room outside the TARDIS seemed to consist mostly of shadows.

"Come on," the Doctor called from one of them.

Donna stepped off the TARDIS and immediately realized what the Doctor had meant.

"The gravity's different," Donna said in awe, trying an experimental jump which nearly propelled her to the ceiling. "Where are we?"

"See for yourself," the Doctor replied, gesturing to a window behind him.

Donna stepped clumsily over to it, looked outside, and was uncharacteristically lost for words. The view above was a blue marbled planet, the Earth, meaning that the shadowed grey landscape below could only be one place.

"We are not on the moon," Donna breathed, pressing her face against the thick plastic.

"I know it's dark out there," the Doctor replied from the other side of the room, "but if you look closely I think you'll find that we are."

"We can't be," Donna denied.

"Can too," the Doctor countered. "Welcome to Shackleton Crater and Earth's first lunar outpost."

"No way," Donna exclaimed, awestruck. "What year is it?"

"2020," the Doctor replied. He was inspecting the many cabinets arranged around the walls.

"That's not so far off," Donna said.

"Amazing what you humans can do in a couple of years," the Doctor confirmed. Now he was standing next to her, examining a pressure suit, which was standing in a case against the wall.

"Why doesn't someone turn on the heat?" Donna muttered, pulling her coat tighter around her.

The TARDIS was in the center of the room, which was the only place in the domed capsule tall enough to accommodate its height. The room itself seemed to be dedicated to science. The cabinets were filled with beakers and microscopes and several collapsible tables were piled near one side, but it was entirely unoccupied except for the two visitors, and the only experiment currently in progress consisted of a dense assembly of plants lit by a few dim fluorescent bulbs, the room's sole light source.

Donna was about to ask if the outpost was abandoned when she heard a sound.

"Shush," she commanded hurriedly, earning a silent look of reproach from the Doctor, who hadn't been making much noise in the first place. However, his expression slid into a smile when he heard the same thing that had caught Donna's attention.

"This way," he said, locating a hatch and leading the way through it and into a short, circular tunnel.

They emerged in a second, smaller dome, with bunks straight ahead, exercise equipment to the left, something which might have passed for a kitchen to the right, and a pair of socked feet sticking out from and enclosed area between the bunks and the kitchen.

"Haven't seen you in quite awhile," said a female voice, causing both the Doctor and Donna a scare, until she continued and they realized that she'd been singing.

"I was down the hold just passing time."

They approached the socks to find them attached to two legs which were visible up to the knees, but the rest of her was buried beneath and behind a panel next to a toilet. Occasionally the clank of a tool could be heard over her singing.

"Last time we met was a low-lit room, we were…we were…"

The voice faltered.

"We were as close together as a bride and groom," Donna supplied obligingly.

"We ate the food," the voice continued, one socked foot twitching slightly in time with the song, "we drank the wine, everybody having a good time except you, you were talking about the end of the world."

"U2's great," Donna said, a bit louder.

This time the woman seemed to appreciate the interjection for what it was and began the apparently involved process of extracting herself from the place where she'd been working. When was finally free, she bounced to her feet and eyed the two visitors with confusion.

"Hi," she began experimentally. She pulled off a cap and tossed it onto a pile of tools at her feet. The hair beneath was pulled back, but more blonde than brown. She was wearing grey sweatpants and a sweatshirt, but neither was quite baggy enough to hide her frame. She looked as though she might once have been well muscled, but had recently lost most of it, and replaced it with nothing.

"Hello," the Doctor replied enthusiastically, grabbing her hand and shaking it, smiling hugely. "I'm the Doctor and this is Donna Noble."

"I'm Sam, well, Samantha…Farfield, but, Sam," the woman replied, still recovering from the shock of finding two strangers in her outpost. Her accent was American. When the Doctor released her, her hand crept to a small box strapped at her hip, a radio, but she changed her mind at the last second and edged past them instead to a computer, which was in the kitchen area. Sam pressed a few buttons and her look of confusion deepened.

"Um, how'd you get here?" Sam asked.

"We've got a space ship," Donna replied.

"Actually, I'd already guessed that," Sam said, not unkindly, looking behind her out a window that showed an empty landing range. "What I really meant was…where'd you park?"

"In the other room," the Doctor replied.

"What?" Sam asked with the air of one whose intellect was in conflict with her senses, and without another word she dashed off toward the hatch and slid through feet first without touching the floor or walls. Donna and the Doctor followed, more clumsily.

When they arrived in the science bay, Sam had turned on a dim light but was still standing near the hatch with one hand on a wall but her attention on the TARDIS. It seemed that the unexpected appearance of a police box in her outpost was enough to make her realize that the evidence was pointing away from the possibility of it breaking the outpost in order to get there.

"That's your spaceship?" Sam breathed.

"Don't knock it," the Doctor defended automatically.

"I wasn't," Sam replied hurriedly, pulling a flashlight out of her pocket then fumbling through a nearby drawer. "It's just so small. I mean, I had to ride a thing the size of a skyscraper to get here."

Finally, she pulled from the drawer a book of matches. She extracted one, lit it, and blew it out a few seconds later, then started circling the room, watching the movement of the smoke with her flashlight.

"Old fashioned way," the Doctor exclaimed. "I love it."

"Is this what made that noise earlier?" Sam asked as she walked around the room.

"I was wondering if you'd heard that," the Doctor replied.

"I wasn't sure I did," Sam admitted.

"It's kind of unmistakable," Donna pointed out.

"Except for," Sam paused to thing, then charged on, "my mind's been playing tricks on me." After circuiting the room twice and running through five matches, she put the book away, satisfied that the TARDIS's appearance hadn't caused any damage. However, the way in which she did it led Donna to suspect that Sam was coming to doubt a few other things too.

"We're real," Donna said. "We're here."

"Sorry," Sam replied, "but you're up against Occam's razor here."

"Which one's that?" Donna whispered to the Doctor.

"Given multiple equally probable solutions, the simplest one is usually correct," the Doctor explained.

"Well how to we increase our probability," Donna asked.

However, the Doctor was prevented from replying by Sam, who held up a finger for silence and touched a button on her radio.

"Copy that Houston, stand by," she said, then, releasing the button, she looked at the Doctor and Donna and said, "Do you want me to tell the people on the ground that you're here?"

The Doctor thought about it for a moment then said, "I know this doesn't help our chances, but it's probably best to keep all this to ourselves for now."

"You're lucky I had the cameras turned off," Sam muttered as she turned to face the wall behind her, which was covered in displays, knobs, and switches. She then returned to the radio and said, "Houston, I confirm your reading of 1000 ppm."

There was a few seconds of silence then Sam said, "Negative Houston, I was having some trouble with a component and decided to jump on the bike to clear my head."

Sam paused a few moments to listen and turned a few knobs on the control panel, then said, "Thanks, Marley. I'll let you know. Odyssey out."

"Sorry about that," Sam added, turning back to the Doctor and Donna.

"Is there a problem?" the Doctor asked.

"No," Sam replied. "MOCR noticed the carbon dioxide was a little high. They thought it might be a problem with the scrubbers, but really it's just because you two are here. Plus, that trick with the matches didn't help much either."

"Sorry," Donna interjected, "we'll try not to breathe so much."

"Don't worry about it," Sam said. "I adjusted the scrubbers; the levels should go back to normal, though if you wouldn't mind standing a bit closer to the plants…"

Donna began to obey the request, but then paused and said, "You sound like you believe we're here now."

"It's getting more likely. It was MOCR who noticed the carbon dioxide levels, not me, and that match trick wouldn't have been enough to do it," Sam replied. "Plus, if this was a hallucination, since I'm aware of it, I should have been able to find a flaw in it by now."

"That's good," Donna said.

"It would still be nice to get independent confirmation, though," Sam added. "But if you don't want me to tell anyone you're here…"

"Do what you think is best," the Doctor offered.

Sam thought about it for a moment, then, strangely, closed her eyes. Donna was surprised, but the Doctor seemed to know exactly what to do with this development. He reached out and touched her on the shoulder, then, unexpectedly, poked her in the nose.

"What was that for?" Donna demanded as Sam gasped and opened her eyes, rubbing her nose.

"You weren't expecting that, were you?" the Doctor said to Sam.

"All I do is try and think you out of existence, and you come along and hit me in the face," Sam replied, eyes watering, but she was smiling for the first time since they'd met.

"Pretty rude, trying to think two people and a space ship out of existence," the Doctor countered.

"It's not so polite to show up in a person's outpost, unexpected and unannounced," Sam replied. "Anyway, you've got the benefit of the doubt."

No one chose to speak and the silence quickly became uncomfortable. Sam, as the unwitting host, seemed to be suffering the worst of it. She kept looking from the Doctor to Donna to the TARDIS and back, apparently on the verge of asking a question, but for some reason she held it back.

Uncharacteristically, the Doctor seemed to be in no mood to take charge of the situation. He was wearing an expression of awe and dividing his attention between Sam and the control panel behind her. Eventually, Donna simply broke the silence herself, even though she didn't actually have much to contribute.

"So, you like U2?"

"Did you come here for something?" Sam asked in a flood. Though Donna usually heartily protested to being ignored, she was rather grateful that her previous question had been taken rhetorically.

"Doctor, would you care to take that one?" Donna prompted, nudging him with an elbow.

"Yes, right," the Doctor stammered, finally coming out of it, "and well, no, actually, we just figured you could use some company and thought we'd pop round."

"Well, thanks," Sam replied, looking startled, "but is that really all? I mean, we're on the moon, it's not exactly next door."

"Actually," the Doctor pointed out, "it is next door."

"Fine," San admitted, "relativity, everything depends on your perspective. But then Alpha Proxima and the Andromeda galaxy are next door too, and that doesn't make it any easier to get there."

"Well," the Doctor said, looking like he was about to launch into one of his incomprehensible lectures, but Sam stopped him first.

"Then again, you've got a spaceship, which looks like it's made of wood, but can go through walls."

"You're really having trouble with that, aren't you," the Doctor replied.

"I've got colleagues planetside who are physics geniuses," Sam explained. "They've calculated the probability of something spontaneously disappearing in one room and appearing in another."

"Really?" Donna asked, looking skeptical.

"That was about two months worth of lunch hours," Sam said. "JPL isn't exactly known for its hip employees. Anyway, I've seen their results, and that probability is mighty slim, turns out."

"Yes, well, the odds increase dramatically when you're trying to do it on purpose," the Doctor replied, beginning to look disappointed.

"A trillion trillion trillion billion times cubes?" Sam asked pointedly. "I doubt it."

"You're saying you think it's impossible," the Doctor sighed.

"I'm saying that physics as I know it doesn't allow this," San replied, "but there's plenty of physics that I don't understand. Besides, it can't be impossible, I'm looking right at it, and that makes your ship amazing."

"You think?" the Doctor said, brightening.

"Well, yeah," Sam said. "I mean, it must take advantage of some laws of physics that no one's ever thought of, so I wouldn't be surprised if it can do more than move through walls. Well, I would be surprised, but not so much intellectually, I suppose."

"Plus," Sam continued, then faltered, smiling uncomfortably, "this sounds ridiculous to ask because you look human and sound like you're from England, but you're not, are you?"

"Donna is, I'm not," the Doctor replied. "I'm a Time Lord."

"Wow," Sam breathed.

"Would you like a look?" the Doctor offered, "inside the TARDIS? The ship?"

Sam hesitated, glancing toward the hatch which led back to the place where she'd been working, but only for a moment.

"Do you really have to ask?" she concluded, beaming.

Sam lead the way to the door of the TARDIS, with the Doctor and Donna trailing along behind. Now that she wasn't moving so quickly, it was possible to discern that Sam wasn't walking. Instead, she moved with a graceful sashay which propelled her more forward than up. The Doctor and Donna copied her, finding it a much more useful method of locomotion in the moon's reduced gravity.

However, soon all of Sam's grace left her. A polite visitor, Sam curbed her enthusiasm long enough to allow the Doctor and Donna on board first, then skipped in behind them and promptly collapsed. The Doctor was just barely quick enough to catch her.

"Artificial gravity," Sam inferred.

"Sorry," the Doctor replied, setting her back on her feet. "I probably should have warned you about that."

"Is this normal Earth gravity?" Sam asked. Her knees were buckling, so she grabbed the nearby railing with one hand. The Doctor still had her other arm by the elbow.

"9.81 meters per second squared," the Doctor confirmed.

"Damn," Sam muttered. "I've got to work out more. I can't be like this when I get back to Earth."

The Doctor released Sam and turned away so quickly that she nearly toppled over again, but she managed to catch herself.

"How long have you been here?" Donna asked, watching as Sam took a few experimental steps, one hand hovering just over the railing.

"Almost a month," Sam replied, finally declaring herself recovered and turning her attention back to the TARDIS. "Bigger on the inside," she breathed.

"Where are the rest of your crewmates?" Donna pressed.

"Back on Earth," Sam replied, approaching the console, which the Doctor was contemplating. "They left a week and a half ago."

"They left you here alone?" Donna demanded.

"It wasn't exactly plan A," Sam replied, eying the glowing cylinder above the console with her hands clasped behind her back.

"Why, though?" Donna pressed. "I've never heard of NASA sending people on missions by themselves."

"The Mercury astronauts flew solo, the Apollo command module pilots were by themselves for days while their crew mates walked on the moon, and there were dozens of solo spacewalks during the shuttle program," Sam corrected. "It's never a first choice, but sometimes it's the way it has to be."

"Fine," Donna conceded, "but you've got to admit this is a little different."

"The outpost is in shadow," the Doctor supplied.

"That's why it's so cold and dark," Sam agreed. "The primary energy source is solar power, but right now there's no sun."

"So what?" Donna demanded. "That space station goes in and out of shadow all the time, no trouble."

"The ISS orbits every 90 minutes, the most time it ever spends in shadow is 35 minutes. This place hasn't seen the sun in a little over a week," Sam explained.

"How can't it?" Donna asked, feeling intellectually outclassed.

"The moon orbits the Earth at exactly the same rate as it rotates," Sam said, "that's why one side is always facing the Earth. Since a lunar day is 28 terran days, most places on the moon spend two weeks of every month in shadow. Here it's just a little better; this outpost is on the wall of a crater near the south pole, it sees the sun for a little less than three weeks at a time."

"Oh," Donna said, almost following.

"Anyway, the point is," Sam continued, "the only energy the outpost is getting is what's reflected off the Earth and from the backup generator. There's barely enough to keep the outpost and me going, it can't support any more people right now. And that's without considering the water supply."

"Then why didn't you leave with the rest of your crew and come back when the sun is out?" Donna asked.

"The outpost is too fragile right now," Sam replied. "Not all of the backups are online, so if something malfunctions someone needs to be here to fix it manually or else the entire outpost could die."

"But then people are going to come back and help you, right?" Donna pleaded, "once there's enough power?"

"No," Sam replied, with the air of one who'd been trying to avoid thinking about the fact. "That was the original plan, but…rocket the size of a skyscraper, remember? It costs too much to bring people here to do it all the time. I can cry uncle and be replaced if I need to, and the flight surgeons can force me back to Earth, but other than that I'll be here, by myself, until the outpost is ready for a permanent crew."

"How long is that supposed to take?" Donna asked apologetically.

"At this rate, three more months," Sam replied, her face a bit too emotionless to be believed. "Speaking of which, it's been nice talking with you, and you can stay awhile if you like, but I really should get back to work."

She turned for the door.

"Wait," the Doctor called just as Sam was about to pull the door open. "Come with us."

Sam froze, caught off guard by the offer, then turned around, looking torn.

"I would really, really like to, she said, gazing around the TARDIS again, "but I can't just leave. I need to keep an eye on the outpost, I've got things to finish, and if MOCR calls and I don't answer they'll start to panic."

"I can take you anywhere you'd like to go, any time you'd like to go," the Doctor added. "Well, mostly," he amended.

"Really? Time too?" Sam replied, forgetting herself. "Even backwards?"

"You know," the Doctor sighed. "Einstein was a bright guy and all, but you really shouldn't go around thinking that he had it all figured out."

"Doesn't stop the twin paradox from being the most convincing method of time travel I've heard yet," Sam replied, "unless you'd care to upstage him."

"I can show you," the Doctor insisted, "and have you back seconds after we leave."

"I'm sorry," Sam said and sounded it, "but I only just met you. It's too important that I stay here. I can't leave it up to chance."

The Doctor faltered, looking extremely disappointed.

"Tell you what," Sam added, looking up at the Doctor. "Since you've got a time machine and all, if the offer still stands, do you think you could look me up when I'm back on Earth again?"

The Doctor's expression didn't change, but it didn't change for a little too long.

"Oh," Sam said, then turned around, opened the door, and left.

"What?" Donna asked. She hadn't been watching quite as carefully, but as soon as she looked at the Doctor's stricken expression she knew exactly what the problem was. "She never makes it back to Earth. She's going to die."


	2. Ghost

Disclaimer: All I own here are my ideas. The fantastic world of Doctor Who belongs to someone else, as do the songs of U2 and The Beatles. I'm just playing with the characters, and promise to put everything back where I found it.

Summary: After visiting the Planet of the Ood, Donna needs her faith in humanity restored, so the Doctor takes her to the beginning of Earth's new age of exploration. A story about adventure, sacrifice, and the consequences of a mistimed look, where history is in the future.

Spoilers: The Fires of Pompeii and Planet of the Ood.

**New Moon**

**Chapter 2: Ghost**

"Sam?" Donna called, rushing back into the habitation room.

"Over here," Sam replied. Donna turned around and found Sam's feet extending out the door of the bathroom in the same way they had been then the Doctor and Donna first arrived.

"Are you alright?" Donna asked gently.

"Yeah," Sam said. "Why wouldn't I be? I didn't actually want that parade anyway."

Donna didn't even bother with that one.

"Look, sorry about him. He's been time traveling for longer than you can imagine, so he knows things like this, he's just usually a lot better about keeping it to himself," Donna began. "Anyway, he probably didn't mean to reveal anything, I'll bet you just caught him off guard. He'll probably come racing in here in a minute, and then you'll have the fun task of getting him to stop apologizing."

"Was that you with the song lyric earlier?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, it was," Donna replied, sensing an evasion.

"Thanks," Sam said. "I'd been trying to remember that line almost since I got here. Sorry for thinking you were in my head."

"You don't have any music with you?" Donna asked.

"Just what I can remember," Sam replied. "Hard drive space is extremely limited, and there's not enough reserve energy to charge a portable player."

"Can't you ask you're friends on the radio?" Donna suggested.

"I've thought about it," Sam sighed. "But memory loss is a symptom of cabin fever. I figure if I start telling MOCR that I can't remember song lyrics they'll start to get suspicious about what else I've forgotten and force me back to Earth."

"Well, if you've got any other missing lyrics…" Donna offered.

"I'd probably be a negligent hostess if I didn't offer you something to eat," Sam said, "but what I've got has to last until a resupply mission comes or I croak, so how about you help yourself, and if you can figure out how to eat it, it's yours."

"Oh, don't think you're getting off that easy," Donna replied. She could recognize a divergence tactic when she heard one. "Why don't you come out here so we can have this conversation properly."

"That would probably be unwise," Sam replied.

"Why? Afraid you'll punch me or something? Because I can take a hit. At least I imagine I can," Donna appended. "Anyway, you probably wouldn't be able to put much too much force into it in this gravity."

"I have to stay down here because I just took the primary pressure release valve off the water line," Sam said. "I need to keep an eye on things until I can get it fixed and reinstalled."

"You did that on purpose, didn't you," Donna said, sitting down on the floor next to Sam's feet.

"A little bit," Sam admitted.

"So, how'd you get here?" Donna began conversationally.

"Are you looking for a technical answer?" Sam asked, sounding doubtful. "Rockets and orbits and rendezvous and all that?"

"Oh, um, no," Donna stammered. "I actually meant, why you're here and not someone else."

"Oh, that kind," Sam sighed. "You ought to be careful about how you phrase questions like that. I could've had you there for days before you even managed to get in a word of clarification."

"I really should," Donna agreed. "The Doctor's the same way, gets me on stuff like that all the time. Anyway, you were saying?"

"Right, well, it actually wasn't as complicated as you might think," Sam replied. "They needed someone familiar with these systems, they would've had to train the veteran astronauts from scratch and there wasn't time for that. I'd been helping to design and build this outpost since I graduated from college, so when word got out that they needed someone with my skill set to fly the first mission I applied. So did thousands of other people, but in the end NASA decided that I had the balance of skills and physical ability that best fit what they were looking for. Plus, I had the rather dubious honor of having the best shrinks in the land declare me the most likely to keep track of my marbles, so here I am."

"How old are you?" Donna asked. I was a question that had been nagging her since she first laid eyes on the astronaut.

"Twenty-eight," Sam replied, as though she'd been expecting it.

"Twenty-eight?" Donna exclaimed.

"Don't start thinking you're the first person to mention it," Sam muttered. "Youngest astronaut ever, first woman on the moon, longest stay on the moon to date, first American to die in space. I wish people didn't keep track of junk like that."

"Listen," Donna said, "you should really try not to dwell on that."

"You try having an alien from the future…"

"Actually," Donna interrupted, "from what I can tell he's from the same time as me, he's just seen a lot more of the time leading up to it, and the time afterwards."

"Whenever," Sam exclaimed. "Try having an alien who's familiar with the future tell you that you're going to die and don't dwell on it."

"If the Doctor doesn't come along soon with that apology I'm going to go over there and wring it out of him," Donna muttered, mostly to herself.

"But I can't die," Sam continued, beginning to sound hysterical. "I mean, I can, I knew the risks before I signed on, but I can't, it's too important that I come back alive. NASA needs a win so badly, it's been taking crap for stuff like this for decades, and it's gotten so close to being shut down that me dying might be enough to do it, but I couldn't stand that. What I'm doing is the most patriotic thing I can think of, because I'm doing it for the entire planet, not just the United States. It doesn't matter what language you speak, you can still be inspired by the fact that there's an outpost on the moon and someone is living in it. It's like what inspired me when I was a kid, and I lived decades after Apollo. Planet Earth isn't such a happy place right now, but maybe it's gotten a little better in the month I've been here. What I'm doing right now is helping to save the world and I would die for that, happily, but not so some blowhard in a suit, who thinks he knows what I should and shouldn't risk my life for, can come along and use it as a reason why NASA should be shut down. I can't stand that idea, but I won't be able to do anything about it, because I'll be dead."

Donna held her silence throughout the monologue and after, not at all sure how to respond.

"Are you still there?" Sam asked after a moment.

"I'm here," Donna replied, placing a reassuring hand on Sam's ankle.

"I guess this spares me one problem," Sam sighed.

"What's that," Donna asked.

"Veteran astronauts are always saying that they have so much trouble fitting into normal life after being in space," Sam replied. "How they make space their lifelong goal, and once they reach it they don't know what to do with themselves."

"I'm sure you would have thought of something," Donna said.

"I need a plan," Sam sighed. "A way to make sure people understand that I accepted the risks of coming here and think NASA should continue despite what happens to me."

"Could you leave a message with someone?" Donna suggested. "Maybe the people in mission control, or, do you have a husband or fiancé or boyfriend?"

"No, I don't," Sam replied, sounding absent.

"Girlfriend?" Donna offered fairly.

"No either," Sam said, good naturedly. There was a moment of thoughtful silence, then she suddenly exclaimed, "Oh no!"

"What?" Donna gasped, startled.

Sam began wriggling out of the place where she'd been working, whispering, "Oh Amy, I'm so sorry."

"What's wrong?" Donna demanded. "Is it the valve…thing you were working on? Who's Amy?"

"No, no, that's fixed and working fine," Sam replied when she was free. "It's my sister."

"What about her?" Donna asked.

"She's getting married," Sam replied.

"Good for her!" Donna exclaimed.

"I'm going to miss it," Sam finished.

"Oh," Donna sighed.

"Damnit!" Sam replied, shaking fiercely. "They were putting it off, waiting for me. I told them not to, told them there was a better chance that I wouldn't come back than that I would, but they wouldn't listen. They never listen! They said it wouldn't be right without me there. I was supposed to be a bridesmaid; instead I'm going to ruin my sister's wedding."

Donna said nothing, just pulled Sam into a hug. The astronaut was still shaking terribly, and though she wasn't making any sound at all.

"How old is your sister?" Donna asked. She'd been attempting to change the subject but didn't get very far.

"Twenty-six," Sam replied, her voice shaking almost as much as the rest of her.

"She's younger than you," Donna said, unable to mask her surprise.

"So what, this isn't Fiddler on the Roof," Sam said, pulling away from the hug. She took off the hair net she'd been wearing and flicked it away as though it were a rubber band. It sailed away in a lazy arc and settled near an exercise bike.

"It's not that," Donna reassured her. "It's just, I don't have any siblings, but if I did and a younger one got married before me, I think I'd be feeling pretty lonely."

"I'm alone in an outpost on the moon," Sam pointed out. "Loneliness comes with the territory."

"You're also single," Donna replied.

"Three fourths of the people who applied for this position didn't make the cut because they were in serious relationships," Sam said. "Half of those dropped out willingly once they heard the odds, thinking of their families."

"They rejected all the people who were married?" Donna asked, disbelievingly.

"Not all of them and not blindly," Sam explained. "But it does wonders for commitment to the job when all you've got to come home to is a microwave dinner and whatever's on the TV."

"I see," Donna replied.

"My sister has her priorities and I have mine," Sam continued. "Mine was to get here, and I know that if I had a husband or a boyfriend then I wouldn't be, I wouldn't have even tried because it's bad enough that I've got my parents and sister worried about me, I don't need another person on that list. This is more important than my own personal happiness, and that's a decision I made a long time ago."

"Have you ever had a boyfriend?" Donna asked.

"No," Sam replied, standing up.

"You deserve a medal," Donna exclaimed, getting up as well.

"Keep it," Sam muttered, then she happened to glance at the window and exclaimed. "It's the middle of the night!"

"I thought we already knew that," Donna replied uncertainly.

"It's the middle of the night in Houston," Sam clarified. "I had no idea my schedule was so far off."

"Why does it matter?" Donna asked, "it's always dark here anyways."

"That was the primary shift in MOCR I was talking to a few minutes ago," Sam explained. "They were supposed to be on duty during their day, but it must have gotten changed so they're around when I'm awake and working. Some flight surgeon must have decided I needed stability on the radio or something."

"That's nice of you to think of them, but-" Donna began.

"I sleep when I'm tired, eat when I'm hungry, exercise when I need a break, and work the rest of the time," Sam interrupted, "it can't be very well organized, and in the meantime I'm disrupting all their schedules and keeping them away from their families."

"Well, now that you've noticed I guess you can sort it out," Donna suggested.

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "I just wish they'd told me. Anyway, you can see the U.K. from here, if you like."

"Really?" Donna asked, peering out at the Earth. "Where?"

"Just below the largest cloud mass," Sam described.

"I still don't see it," Donna said after a few minutes.

"Oh! Right," Sam exclaimed. "It's also upside down."

"Oh," Donna replied, shifting her focus. "Now I see it! That's wild! Just think, I could be down there right now, looking up, thinking of you."

"Sure could," Sam said appreciatively.

"Or I could still be traveling with the Doctor," Donna continued. "Speaking of which, if you'll excuse me for a minute, he is way overdue with that apology."

Donna was nearly through the tunnel to the science lab when she turned back.

"Listen, she said. "I don't know why he told you or how he even knows. Trust me, that's not something he goes around doing, most days he does everything in his power to stop people from dying. All I know is that if he thinks of whatever happens to you up here as an unchangeable fact then its consequences must be important, so maybe he offered you that trip to show you that it all works out alright or thank you or something."

Sam nodded, still looking out the window at the Earth.

"Right then," Donna agreed. "Excuse me."

Donna slipped through the tunnel and into the science lab, found it deserted, and stormed immediately onto the TARDIS. The Doctor was sitting on the bench near the console, staring ahead, lost in thought.

"You've got some nerve, you know that?" Donna shouted, not caring what ruminations she interrupted.

"I know," the Doctor replied quietly.

"What were you thinking?" Donna continued. "Barging in on a person's space station and telling her she's going to die?"

"I know," the Doctor sighed.

"You know what you were thinking?" Donna asked, pulling up short.

"No, I don't know," the Doctor stammered. "I was agreeing with you. I didn't plan it. I didn't even tell her really, she was too quick, she just guessed."

"As slipups go," Donna pointed out, "that was fairly catastrophic."

"How is she?" the Doctor asked, looking at Donna properly since the first time since she entered.

"How do you think?" Donna replied sharply. "She's worried sick that space exploration will end with her and convinced that she's going to ruin her sister's wedding."

"She's not worried about herself?" the Doctor asked, seeming strangely reassured by this.

"No, actually," Donna replied, finding the trait odd now that it was pointed out. "But anyway, what's the matter with you? Last planet you were all about saving people."

"We're on the moon," the Doctor pointed out.

"Semantics won't help you here, mister," Donna replied.

"She's like Pompeii," the Doctor explained.

"A fixed point in history," Donna finished.

"Exactly."

"She's not history, it hasn't happened yet."

"Not for you."

"Then who does it need to happen for in order to matter?" Donna demanded.

"It's not who," the Doctor faltered. "She's a turning point in history, and history says she dies in space. If she doesn't, history might turn too far or not far enough, and if it does then there's no knowing what may happen."

"But you're a Time Lord," Donna protested. "Can't you do something about that?"

"In the old days, maybe," the Doctor admitted. "But I wouldn't have then and I can't now."

"Fine," Donna acquiesced. "In that case you still owe her an apology."

"I know," the Doctor admitted.

"Then get a move on," Donna demanded, pulling him up by the arm and pushing him to the door.

"Oi, no shoving," the Doctor complained as they fell through the door, nearly colliding with Sam, who appeared to be in mid pace.

"Hi," she said, coming to a halt and watching as they steadied themselves in the reduced gravity.

"I'm going to apologize for what I wasn't fast enough to not imply," the Doctor began, "but first I have to say that if you quote Heisenberg, I won't be held responsible for what happens next." He winced as Donna's elbow struck him in the ribs.

"Sorry," Sam replied. "I guess I'm just used to science's useful tendency to explain things."

"Your science isn't wrong," the Doctor admitted, "just…not applicable."

"Like Newton's laws at relativistic speeds," Sam agreed.

"Careful," the Doctor warned.

"Sorry," Sam said.

"Stop apologizing," the Doctor replied. "I'm the one who's supposed to be sorry here. And I am so sorry."

"It's alright," Sam replied honestly. "I can tell you didn't mean to, and I always knew it was a possibility. Anyway, is that trip still on the table?"

"Allons-y!" the Doctor exclaimed, bounding into the TARDIS. Donna and Sam followed at nearly the same pace.


	3. Past

Disclaimer: All I own here are my ideas. The fantastic world of Doctor Who belongs to someone else, as do the songs of U2 and The Beatles. I'm just playing with the characters, and promise to put everything back where I found it.

Summary: After visiting the Planet of the Ood, Donna needs her faith in humanity restored, so the Doctor takes her to the beginning of Earth's new age of exploration. A story about adventure, sacrifice, and the consequences of a mistimed look, where history is in the future.

Spoilers: The Fires of Pompeii and Planet of the Ood.

**New Moon**

**Chapter 3: Past**

"Allons-y!" the Doctor exclaimed, bounding into the TARDIS. Donna and Sam followed at nearly the same pace.

"Where are we going, then?" Donna asked as soon as she was inside. Sam stumbled in behind her, only slightly more ready for the increased gravity than she had been last time.

"What, a guy can't have his secrets?" the Doctor asked, already at the console, twirling dials and pushing buttons.

"Fine," Donna muttered. "We'll find out in a few minutes anyway."

Sam, meanwhile, was watching the Doctor in his circuit of the console, her hands clasped behind her back, not quite loosely enough to eliminate the possibility that she might be restraining herself form reaching out to touch the controls in front of her.

"Sorry about the gravity," the Doctor said after a moment. "I could adjust it for you, although, last time I did, things went a little funny. I started turning up in ancient Greece every third trip."

"Don't," Sam replied. "Just leave it."

"Alright," the Doctor said.

"Your spaceship is meant to be flown by more than one person," Sam added.

"So's yours," the Doctor replied without looking at her.

"Yes, but-"

"You may want to hold on to something," the Doctor interrupted, and slapped his hand down on the final button.

The TARDIS shifted beneath them, knocking all three to the floor.

"How about it, then?" Donna pressed, still pestering the Doctor for their location.

"See for yourself," the Doctor offered, gesturing for Sam to join Donna at the door. "Just mind the-!"

His warning was cut off by Donna, who threw the door open without a moment's hesitation. Fortunately, she had opened the TARDIS door to empty space once before and had since been careful to look before disembarking. Sam, however, was not quite so prepared.

"We're in space!" she exclaimed breathlessly.

"We were before, you realize," the Doctor pointed out.

"That's hard vacuum," Sam continued.

"Sure is," the Doctor replied.

"But the door's open," Sam said.

"There's a shield," the Doctor explained.

"We can see through it," Sam breathed, clearing her ears experimentally.

"An energy shield," the Doctor muttered.

"Really?" Sam said, finally releasing the death grip she had on the rail.

"Just because you humans haven't figure out how to do it," the Doctor said, detecting a hint too much skepticism in her question.

"Have you seen this?" Donna asked half in awe and half because she sensed the beginning of another argument.

Sam apparently had not, for she turned immediately quiet and stared hungrily at the wide expanse of colorful gases outside the door.

"No-" Sam breathed.

"Yes," the Doctor countered.

"It's beautiful," Donna agreed.

"We-"

"Yes," the Doctor replied.

"But-"

"Time machine."

"So?"

"Einstein."

"It's huge," Donna added, rapidly losing the thread of the Doctor and Sam's conversation.

"True," Sam admitted.

"Yep."

"Wait," Sam breathed.

"Yes," the Doctor prompted.

"Eagle Nebula?"

"Exactly."

"Backwards."

"Yes."

"But then-"

"Yes."

"Earth is-"

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"Then-"

"Yes."

"Not visible."

"Not a problem."

"Telescope?"

"Better."

Sam opened her mouth then closed it, looking puzzled.

"Not a satellite," the Doctor intuited.

"Thought not."

"Come see," the Doctor said, beckoning her up to the console.

"That'd be neat, though," Sam said, going to join him.

"There," the Doctor said, pointing at the screen.

"Wow," Sam breathed after they'd looked at the screen for awhile.

"Yes."

"No."

"What?"

"Not it."

"Where then?"

"Damn," Donna remarked, watching the rapid exchange instead of the nebula.

"Look," Sam replied, pointing at the screen. "M5, Delta Serpentis, Alya, Sun!" She was pointing at a place on the screen a short distance away from where the Doctor was pointing.

"You found the sun?" Donna demanded, less than happy that a secret language had been made up in front of her. "Our sun?"

"Yes," the Doctor replied.

"Complete sentences!" Donna cried.

"That was a complete sentence," the Doctor pointed out.

"Yes?" Sam asked the Doctor, slower to lose the pidgin.

"No," the Doctor said, "sorry."

"Then where?" Sam asked, dropping her arm. "Wait."

"Now you're getting there," the Doctor encouraged.

"The Pillars of Creation," Sam observed.

"Found them, did you?" the Doctor said.

"Was the theory wrong?" Sam asked, somberly.

"No," the Doctor replied.

"What theory?" Donna asked, growing weary of this.

"Then they haven't been here since years ago," Sam said. "Thousands of years."

"If someone doesn't explain what this theory is," Donna threatened.

"We are thousands of years ago," the Doctor replied.

"No," Sam replied gleefully.

"Yes," the Doctor said.

"Well, that would explain…"

"Yes."

"So the sun is," Sam began, pointing to the same star as the Doctor.

"Yes."

"Enough!" Donna shouted. "We're not all astrophysicists here, and if you can't explain yourselves so that everyone can understand then you can just keep quiet!"

"Sorry," the Doctor and Sam replied simultaneously.

"Explain," Donna demanded.

"Now who's not talking in complete sentences," the Doctor muttered, not quite quietly enough.

"Shut up you," Donna said. "Sam, please, from the beginning."

"Okay, um," Sam stuttered. "Well, basically, I was a bit in denial about what were seeing, because it's so far away, and it only took us a few seconds to get here. Anyway, eventually I realized that we're looking at the Eagle Nebula, but it's backwards compared to the pictures I've seen, which means we're on the other side of it, facing the Earth."

"And that's when you started looking for the sun?" Donna guessed.

"Yeah," Sam replied. "The Doctor and I disagreed about which star the sun was until I realized that the Pillars of Creation are still here."

"And that's significant because?" Donna prompted.

"Because evidence gathered by the Hubble indicates that the Pillars were destroyed by a supernova around 6000 years ago, but we can't see the new shape from Earth yet, because the nebula is 7000 light years away."

"That's the theory you wouldn't explain," Donna said.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed. "Sorry about that. Anyway, if the Pillars are still here and the theory is correct then it means we're at least 6000 years in the past."

Donna stared at her, blankly, waiting for a conclusion to her explanation.

"That long ago, the sun would be a little brighter and in a slightly different position," Sam concluded. "That's why I picked the wrong star. Does that help?"

"Sort of," Donna replied, looking for cheerful nevertheless. "Which one's the sun again?"

Sam pointed out the star in question on the screen, then returned to the door and sank to the floor to watch the nebula herself. However, she only remained that way for a few minutes before turning back to the Doctor and saying, "Not to belabor the point, but you can take me back to the outpost right after I left, right?"

"Sure," the Doctor confirmed.

"Thanks," Sam replied. "Heart attacks in MOCR aside, there was something I-"

"I could take you back now, if you like," the Doctor added a bit too hastily, "but I figure you haven't had a proper meal in awhile."

"I guess I haven't," Sam admitted.

"Alright then," the Doctor said happily. "If you're ready."

Donna and Sam took their last looks at the Eagle nebula then Sam closed the door, ready to go.

The Doctor pushed a few buttons, the TARDIS jolted then settled, and the three of them stepped outside.


	4. Future

Disclaimer: All I own here are my ideas. The fantastic world of Doctor Who belongs to someone else, as do the songs of U2 and The Beatles. I'm just playing with the characters, and promise to put everything back where I found it.

Summary: After visiting the Planet of the Ood, Donna needs her faith in humanity restored, so the Doctor takes her to the beginning of Earth's new age of exploration. A story about adventure, sacrifice, and the consequences of a mistimed look, where history is in the future.

Spoilers: The Fires of Pompeii and Planet of the Ood.

**New Moon**

**Chapter 4: Future**

The Doctor, Donna, and Sam left the TARDIS and emerged in a small, empty room, opened the door, turned two corners, and found themselves in a hallway crowded with aliens.

"Where are we?" Donna asked, looking about with interest.

"Farfield Hub," the Doctor replied.

Sam, who'd been actively preventing herself from staring at the passersby by reading the nearby signage, snapped immediately back to attention. "Where?" she asked, sharply.

"Yep, named after you," the Doctor replied, leading the way into the crowd.

"Er," Sam stuttered, caught off guard. "This is an airport," she finally concluded.

"A spaceport," the Doctor corrected.

"What year is this?" Sam asked.

"Earth years?" the Doctor replied. "12261."

"I'm ten thousand years in the future and people are naming places after me," Sam breathed, rolling up her sleeve.

"What are you doing?" the Doctor asked, watching her.

"Making sure I'm not asleep," Sam replied, taking a bit of skin and pinching hard.

"Well?" the Doctor asked.

"Not dreaming," Sam said, eyes watering.

"Back to that, are we?" the Doctor asked.

"Never quite left it," Sam admitted, "and the situation did just reach a ten on the ridiculous meter."

"That's me," the Doctor replied, "always happy to provide the ridiculous. And here we are," he added, "one of my favorite shops in the whole universe."

He led the way into a peaceful looking café which bordered a busy walkway on one side and a wide window overlooking the coming and going ships and a large blue planet on the other. They ordered coffee and sandwiches from the cheerful proprietor who apparently owed the Doctor a large debt from years past and refused to accept any kind of compensation from him or his friends, which was fortunate because they had none to offer.

They found a table in sight of the walkway and the window and sat down.

"That's not Earth, is it," Sam observed of the planet below them.

"The fourth planet of Vega," the Doctor confirmed. "The first extra solar planet humankind ever finds, and it turned out to be inhabited. Who'd of thought?"

"So much for the rare Earth hypothesis," Sam agreed. "Is that who made this hub, then? The, um…"

"Dloxifan," the Doctor supplied. "Yes, along with humans and a coalition of other races."

"Are there many Dloxifan here now?" Donna asked. "Could you point one out?"

"Sure," the Doctor replied, turning to the walkway.

They passed the entire meal this way, Donna and Sam pointing out members of unfamiliar races and the Doctor regaling them with planetary origins, customs, and sometimes even anecdotes about his own adventures with the species.

"And what about that one?" Sam asked. "With the purple skin and the tentacles?"

"I don't know," the Doctor replied, looking flabbergasted. "I honestly don't. I've never seen that species before in my life.

A contented silence filled the next few moments. Sam turned to the window in time to watch as a ship docked, and began to muse aloud.

"Have you ever gone for a drive at night?" she asked, and continued before anyone could respond to the odd question. "And I don't mean just around town, I mean a long drive, with freeways and such. Do you ever go for a drive at night and look outside and think, 'I wonder if this is what it's like?' To travel in space, I mean. And I know it's not the same, because, you know, there's more gravity and shorter distances and mile markers and all, but I think it might be kind of the same too. Because it's just you and the car and whatever you can see with the headlights, which isn't much. Even the plants along the road are mostly shadows. So there you are, traveling along, and you know there are things beyond the road, amazing things, but you can't see them, it's like they're so far away that they might as well not exist. It's just you and the road and the stars and whatever company you've got, and sometimes the occasional spark in the distance, and when you get closer, it turns into civilization."

"You live in the wrong era," the Doctor said when she was finished.

"Sometimes I think so," Sam replied, taking a sip of her coffee.

"How can one person be too early and too late all at once?" the Doctor wondered.

"Happens all the time, I imagine," Sam said.

"What were you going to do when you got back to Earth," Donna asked.

Sam's expression, already blank, became very fixed. She took a deep drink of her coffee, clearly stalling for time. The Doctor, meanwhile, looked like he dearly wanted to shush Donna and change the subject, but managed to restrain himself.

"Doesn't really matter anymore," Sam replied finally.

"Sure it does," Donna cajoled. "And you must have thought about it, you think about everything."

"Well…I kind of…" Sam stuttered with an embarrassed smile, "I figure I've seen the whole world from far away. I thought I might travel around some, take a closer look."

"Sorry you won't get to," Donna said genuinely.

"I always knew this was a possibility," Sam replied. "I shouldn't have put it off."

"You shouldn't start regretting things," the Doctor interjected immediately.

"Is that a hint?" Sam asked suspiciously.

"It's a fact," the Doctor replied. "People will look back on your life and call it amazing."

"People tend to speak kindly of the dead," Sam pointed out.

"They will reach that conclusion by reading your journal," the Doctor clarified. "And I might as well say, it is one of the most inspirational, uplifting things I've ever read."

Sam paused to think then said, "I haven't been keeping a journal."

"Haven't you?" the Doctor asked carefully.

"Until now," Sam concluded.

"There's an interesting paradox," the Doctor said thoughtfully, running a hand through his hair.

"That's what brought you here," Sam intuited.

"Indirectly," the Doctor admitted.

"Weird," Sam said.

"Yep," the Doctor agreed. "It happens sometimes, but this one is bigger than usual. Much bigger." He ran his hand through his hair again.

"Care to elaborate," Donna prompted when the Doctor fell silent.

"I've been meaning to ask," the Doctor continued, turning to Sam and ignoring Donna's question. "For an early 21st century explorer who had two visitors show up unannounced in her lunar outpost, you didn't seem quite as surprised as one might expect."

"Don't be fooled," Sam replied. "I was pretty surprised."

"Still," the Doctor prompted.

"Honestly," Sam admitted, "I had a bit of warning."

"Warning?" the Doctor asked, looking confused.

"Yeah," Sam explained. "Just before I went into quarantine, I got a call from a man. He said he knew someone who had a habit of turning up for things like this. He wouldn't explain who the person was or what he looked like; just that he travels around in a big blue police box. He basically said I should ask questions first."

"You don't say," the Doctor replied, sounding unsurprised.

"Not quite sure what he thought I might shoot you with," Sam mused. "I don't even have a stapler. Anyway, it might've saved us some trouble if he'd taken a second to explain how you show up."

"This person didn't mention his name, did he?" the Doctor asked.

"He called himself Captain Jack-" Sam began.

"-Harkness," the Doctor finished. "Go figure."

"You know him?" Sam asked.

"Thought I did," the Doctor replied. "Anyway, obviously he knows me."

"Actually," Sam added, "if you happen to see him again, I probably owe him an apology, turns out."

"I'm sure he doesn't need it," the Doctor said, "but what for?"

"Well, the thing is, it was a few days before launch and all my calls were being screened, even my parents couldn't call me without a password. I never did figure out how Captain Harkness got through, but there he was, some random guy telling me that I might get a visit from someone with a big blue box while I was on the moon," Sam explained. "I thought it was a prank."

"Oh, I'm sure that was devastating for him," the Doctor said, grinning.

"That and I might have set the FBI on him," Sam added.

"The FBI?" the Doctor laughed. "That's brilliant! Now there's something I'd like to see: Captain Jack Harkness versus the FBI. He'd win too, you know. In fact, next time I'm in the era, I ought to pass your apology on to the Bureau."

"Really?" Sam asked skeptically.

"Sure," the Doctor replied. "You'd be hard pressed to find a more resourceful character. He'll probably have them end up investigating their own mothers."

"In that case, could you give him my thanks?" Sam said.

"I'll be sure to," the Doctor said.

"What about this place, then?" Donna asked, deciding a change in subject was in order and taking it upon herself to pick one that she could understand.

"What about it?" the Doctor replied, looking unusually open to questions in that vein.

"How long's it been here? What's it for?" Donna said. "How did it get named after Sam?"

"Ah! Well," the Doctor began, "it's been here about 300 years. They built this place to last, see. As for what it's for, Sam had it right, it's an airport, only for spaceships. And how it got named after Sam? That's actually an interesting story. You see, when humans and Dloxifan first met, they had huge trouble communicating. The Dloxifan language is very complex, so complex, in fact, that they couldn't comprehend English because it's so simple."

"English, simple," Donna scoffed and Sam nodded in agreement.

"The point is," the Doctor continued, "they couldn't understand each other. After another unsuccessful round of introductions, the two delegations took corners to try and figure out what to do next. The humans were beginning to think that they'd have to do things the old fashioned way, you know, start with nouns and work their way up, but then one of the human delegates overheard one of the Dloxifan saying a human word: Farfield. Turns out Earth's been visited by more space travelers than anyone's ever realized, and at least one of them must have heard Sam's story and decided it was worth retelling, because it reached the Dloxifan long before humans ever did. And that was what the Dloxifan were discussing: if the legendary Samantha Farfield was part of the same species that was standing across the room. With your story as common knowledge, they were quickly able to establish a dialog and then a friendship. When they built this hub, they named it Farfield in honor of that meeting and the person who made it possible."

Finished, the Doctor turned to Sam expectantly, but she was staring determinedly at her empty coffee cup, not seeming at all inclined to respond.

"This is the part where you make some witty quip," the Doctor prompted. "Something along the lines of, 'No pressure, then,' but preferably more original."

"It's been that part for awhile now," Sam sighed. "I've been restraining myself."

"Humor us," Donna said in sympathy and desperation.

"Are there many other hubs like this?" Sam asked.

"Sure," the Doctor replied. "Scattered all over the galaxy."

"Are many of the others named after Earth explorer?" Sam pressed.

"There's Magellan, near Alpha Centauri, and Armstrong, which is actually in the Andromeda galaxy," the Doctor said, "and several others. But why do you ask?"

"I just wanted to make sure that I'm not the only one who got remembered like this," Sam replied. "I sure don't deserve it. I mean, I never would have gotten anywhere near the moon if it weren't for thousands of engineers and physicists and support crew whose names probably rarely see the light of day."

"Don't sell yourself short," the Doctor began.

"It's just not fair," Sam interrupted. "Some of those engineers have been working out how to build outposts since I was in elementary school. The MOCR crew is there twenty-four hours a day, keeping an eye on the systems that I can't. All of them have put their lives on hold to make this thing go, and when I die they'll be the ones who make sure things get back on track, but no one will remember them for it. Instead, I'm the legend, the one who screws up."

"You don't screw up," the Doctor responded immediately.

"I come back dead," Sam countered. "This obviously isn't a rousing success."

"You'd be surprised," the Doctor attempted.

"And I gave them all the credit they deserve in my journal," Sam blundered on, "or I will give it to them, or whatever, but they'll still just fade away, even though they deserve the fame so much more than I do."

"You're the one who took the risk," Donna pointed out.

"We all took the risk," Sam replied. "I was just the one to do it with my life."

"Exactly," Donna said.

"Well," Sam hesitated, caught, "the others still shouldn't be forgotten."

"We're ten thousand years in the future," Donna reminded her.

"Well, what about Marley?" Sam asked, turning to the Doctor.

"That's who you were speaking with on the radio earlier?" Donna asked.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed. "His real name is Greg Jacobson, but he usually goes by Marley, his Navy call sign. He was my backup. Actually, if the numbers hadn't come down the way they did he would have been up in the outpost with me. Anyway, as it is, he's been CAPCOM, that's capsule communicator. Point is, he's probably going to fly, does anyone remember him?"

"They did for awhile," the Doctor replied. "A long while, actually."

"Did they forget because he wasn't first?" Sam asked, "Because technically I wasn't either."

"Because he downplayed his accomplishments," the Doctor corrected. "He would never explain why, but the theory is that he wanted you to be remembered over him."

"What would he go and do that for?" Sam exclaimed. "If he makes it back and I don't, then he's the one who should be remembered."

"Obviously he disagrees," the Doctor replied.

"Here's a question for you," Donna said. "Hell, it's for both of you. What do you have against normal lives?"

"What," Sam replied. "Normal as in, get married, buy a house-"

"-white picket fence-" the Doctor continued.

"-two and a half kids-"

"-and a dog?"

"Actually, I wouldn't mind a dog," Sam added.

"Yeah, dogs are alright," the Doctor agreed.

"Focus!" Donna exclaimed. "Yes, that kind of normal, what's the matter with it?"

"Nothing, I guess," Sam replied. "It's just not for me."

"Seems to work for most people," Donna muttered.

"I already told you, I wouldn't be here if I had any of that, and apparently it's important that I'm here. Also, Marley is just a colleague," Sam added, not missing how the two topics had become connected in Donna's mind.

"Seems like you're not to him," Donna replied.

Sam hesitated, caught off guard then stuttered, "You probably ought to meet him before you go making guesses like that. Marley's a friend."

"He wrote your last journal entry," the Doctor said quietly. Donna and Sam spun to face him so quickly that they managed to catch the last moment of the Doctor's battle over whether or not to divulge that information.

"He did?" Sam breathed.

"All finished?" the Doctor asked, ignoring the question. "Shall we move on?"

"Now hold on," Donna exclaimed, defiantly remaining seated. "You can't leave her hanging like that!"

"It's alright," Sam protested. "I'm sure we've already flaunted the Temporal Prime Directive enough."

"The what?" Donna asked, sidetracked. The Doctor, meanwhile, snorted quietly, trying to contain a laugh.

"Never mind," Sam muttered, looking at the Doctor in appreciation.

"Well, it's alright for you," Donna continued. "I'll have to wait around ten years to find out why."

"This isn't some soap opera," Sam reminded her.

"No, it's better," Donna replied, "and you'll find out soon enough."

"Will I?" Sam asked pointedly. "there aren't many reasons why I wouldn't write the last entry in my own journal."

"Oh," Donna breathed, catching on. "I'm sorry." She stood up to go.

"Ask the Doctor when you've left, if you must," Sam said, "but leave me my last surprises."

Thoroughly abashed, Donna remained silent during their walk back to the TARDIS, but the Doctor and Sam returned to their previous conversation about the various aliens around them.

"So this is the future," Sam said when they reached the TARDIS.

"This is the future," the Doctor confirmed, pulling open the door and stepping inside. "Well, part of it," he appended. "It's a bit like the past, really, only bigger. You've got your ups and downs, good ideas and bad ones. And you never stop being curious, poking your noses into every nook and cranny you can reach. And sometime you'd get lazy and forget what the point was, but eventually someone comes along to remind everyone. You, Sam, are one of those people, by the way. And in the end humanity becomes one of the greatest civilizations in modern times, the universe's apology for the fate of the Time Lords."

The Doctor pointedly turned his attention to the console, so Sam leaned over to Donna and whispered, "What happened to the Time Lords?"

"They were destroyed in a war," Donna replied, eyes glistening.

"How about one last trip, then," the Doctor suggested after a few moments. "I think there's another thing you'd like to see."

"Alright," Sam replied.

"But you'll need to wear this," the Doctor said, pulling something out of his pocket and handing it over. It was a small key on a long string.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"A TARDIS key," the Doctor explained, and Donna gasped and pulled an indignant look. "But more importantly, it's a perception filter. It will make it difficult for people to notice you. Just try not to bump into anyone; it tends to lead to awkward questions."

"Why don't you two need them?" Sam asked.

"Because you're the one who's not supposed to be there," the Doctor said, then added, "Donna, go find something nice to wear, nothing white."

"Where are we going?" Sam demanded. "Doctor, where are we going?"

Instead of replying, the Doctor pressed the final button and the TARDIS jolted beneath them.


	5. Realization

Disclaimer: All I own here are my ideas. The fantastic world of Doctor Who belongs to someone else, as do the songs of U2, Soul Asylum, and The Beatles. I'm just playing with the characters, and promise to put everything back where I found it.

Summary: After visiting the Planet of the Ood, Donna needs her faith in humanity restored, so the Doctor takes her to the beginning of Earth's new age of exploration. A story about adventure, sacrifice, and the consequences of a mistimed look, where history is in the future.

Spoilers: The Fires of Pompeii and Planet of the Ood.

Author's Note: The song mentioned in this chapter is "Runaway Train" by Soul Asylum.

**New Moon**

**Chapter 5: Realization**

A strange noise echoed through the small church, but if anyone heard they didn't mention it, nor did they comment when two unfamiliar people appeared at the entrance, presented a piece of paper that looked like an invitation to anyone but them, and claimed three seats in the back row on the bride's side.

"I am a ghost," Sam said quietly after the Doctor narrowly deflected her aunt, who'd been about to sit on her. She was shaking almost uncontrollably.

"Are you alright?" the Doctor asked, noticing this.

"Are you sure I should be here?" Sam replied. "What if someone sees me? That would cause some kind of panic. Plus…" she hesitated as though unsure if the point she was about to cite was relevant, "I'm really underdressed." She pulled a string out of the sweatpants at the knee to demonstrate.

"You look fine," the Doctor assured her.

"I'm not even wearing shoes," Sam pointed out, wiggling a socked foot. "And that's not the point."

"Have you been like that this entire time?" the Doctor asked.

"I didn't exactly pack for a hiking trip," Sam replied. "Shoes aren't necessary in the outpost."

"You could have borrowed some," the Doctor volunteered for Donna, who could only hear his half of the conversation because of the perception filter Sam was wearing.

Sam didn't respond, in fact, quite uncharacteristically, she seemed to have lost the thread of the conversation altogether. Instead, she was looking down the row at a woman who was standing in the aisle, speaking with someone.

"Is that your mother?" the Doctor asked, following her gaze.

"Yeah," Sam replied. "She looks good, I think."

"She looks excited for your sister," Donna remarked, at least somewhat aware of the status of the conversation thanks to the Doctor's comment.

"Don't feel forgotten, though," the Doctor replied. "You are very missed."

Sam didn't respond, having once again lost the train. This time it was because her mom stepped away to take her seat, revealing the other person in her conversation, who'd been hidden.

"Marley?" Sam gasped.

"Is that what Marley looks like," the Doctor remarked.

"Marley's here?" Donna exclaimed, looking all around for him.

"I don't get it," Sam breathed. "Why would he come, he doesn't know my family?"

"Seems like he knows them now," the Doctor pointed out.

However, all further conversation came to a halt as the first few bars of music filled the chapel and everyone settled in to watch a beautiful ceremony where groomsmen outnumbered bridesmaids by one.

--

"Are you going to go inside?" the Doctor asked, sitting down next to Sam. They'd trekked a quarter of a mile from the church to the reception hall, but Sam had turned away from the door and settled down on a nearby park bench instead. The park around them was filled with colorful dried leaves, most in piles on the ground, some still in the trees. Donna nearly sat down next to the Doctor, but a ghostly touch guided her a short ways over.

"It's very difficult not being able to see you," Donna muttered to herself, taking a seat that she assumed was on the other side of Sam.

"I'll go," Sam told the Doctor. She had a bottle of the bubble juice, which had stood in for rice, in one hand, the wand in the other.

"Soon?" the Doctor pressed, aware of the loophole.

"Yes," Sam repeated, blowing a stream of bubbles into the crisp fall air. "You don't have to wait for me."

"Sure we will," the Doctor replied, casting a staying glance at Donna, who looked ready to go inside even without hearing Sam's offer. The air was a bit chilly for her taste.

"There's going to be a lot of cameras in there," Sam said after a few minutes.

"And?" the Doctor asked.

"People might have a hard time noticing me now," Sam replied, "but if I happen to end up in the background of someone's picture, will they be able to see me when they look at it later?"

"I don't know," the Doctor admitted. "I've only used perception filters once before, and the situation didn't exactly lend itself to experimentation."

"I won't be able to avoid all the cameras," Sam pointed out, blowing out another stream of bubbles.

"Are you going to let that stop you seeing who's going to catch the bouquet?" the Doctor asked.

"No," Sam sighed. "I just…forgot what fresh air is like." She paused and looked around. "I can't believe I forgot what fresh air is like." More bubbles.

"You keep doing that and people are going to start wondering where they're coming from," the Doctor said.

Sam opened her mouth, hesitated, closed her mouth, hesitated again, and finally said, "Let them." She unleashed another stream of bubbles and watched them dance away on the breeze.

"Good," the Doctor said, watching them.

"What?" Sam asked, looking confused.

"You," the Doctor said. "You actually said what you were thinking."

"That's how it usually works," Sam replied, turning away, though not dismissively. "I've made a habit of running things past my brain before I go and say them. Saves a lot of effort in apologies."

"Not like this, you don't," the Doctor countered. "When you stop yourself like that, it means you had something to say and decided not to, but this time you said it anyway."

"So what?" Sam replied, blowing more bubbles and looking a bit embarrassed.

"Nothing," the Doctor admitted. "You should just do that more often."

"What did she do?" Donna demanded. "And can we please go inside? It's freezing out here."

"I could be completely wrong," Sam said, standing up, "but I've heard that England is pretty chilly for most of the year."

The Doctor laughed.

"Now what did she say," Donna asked. "By the way, this is ridiculous."

"She said you ought to be used to this sort of weather," the Doctor summarized, getting up as well.

"Not like this and not that I like it," Donna argued. "Where are we, anyway?"

"Maine," the Doctor replied.

"What!" Donna cried, outraged. "Maine? In the autumn? And no one mentions that I ought to grab a coat?"

--

The inside of the reception hall was warm and happy. By the time the Doctor, Donna, and Sam entered, the rest of the guests were finishing dinner, but this hardly mattered to the three latecomers, who found unoccupied chairs and sat down just in time to watch the toasts.

There toasts were kind and embarrassing and meaningless to anyone who'd never met the bride and groom, and Donna soon found her attention drifting to the assembled guests. There were aunts and uncles and grandparents and coworkers and high school friends and college roommates and Donna had almost no way of telling one from the other. She nearly made a mental note to ask Sam for a few introductions later, then realized with a sad jolt how impossible that was.

Forcing that thought aside, Donna turned her attention instead to the one person she could recognize: Marley, the voice on the radio, and the only person present in military uniform. He was sitting several tables over, shoulders stiff, eyes glued to the head table, looking almost as out of place as the Doctor and Donna.

It didn't take Donna long to notice that Marley's focus was on neither the speaker nor the happy couple, and as she craned about in an attempt to discern what might have so caught his attention, she realized that an empty chair which she'd initially assumed belong to someone who'd stepped out was in fact occupied by a picture. She was too far away to make it out, but didn't need to to know who it was.

"Has Sam seen that photograph?" Donna whispered to the Doctor.

"I think she has," the Doctor replied through his teeth.

"Did she go somewhere?" Donna asked, only just noticing that the chair Sam had taken looked empty because it was empty, not because the person in it was wearing a perception filter.

"Back wall," the Doctor replied. Donna didn't bother looking; it wouldn't have done any good anyway.

"Is she alright?" Donna pressed.

"I don't think she's back there because she's afraid of being caught on camera," the Doctor replied cryptically.

"Maybe we should go talk to her," Donna suggested, however, before the Doctor had a chance to either agree or argue, the toast ended, everybody drank, and Sam's Mother stood up.

"I know you're all probably getting bored with this," she began, "you want to get on with the dancing and such, but if we could have your patience for just a few more minutes, there is one more person who'd like to speak, on behalf of someone who couldn't be here tonight. Mr. Jacobson, would you like to come forward?"

At this invitation, Marley stood and strode up to the head table, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolding it as he went.

"Hello," Marley said when he reached the front. His voice was soft and calm, but the room was so quiet that every syllable carried perfectly. "I suppose you're all aware of Sam Farfield's story, of how much she wanted to be here to watch her sister get married, and why she couldn't. She wouldn't want her absence to dampen the spirit of the occasion, so I'm sure she'd be very grateful that you haven't let it. For those of you who don't know me, my name is Greg Jacobson. I was Sam's backup and the primary communicator when she spoke with mission control. I know Sam wanted to be here, but she also knew that this might happen, so she wrote a message, and I've been invited to read it to you."

Marley turned to the paper in his hand.

"A message for my sister," he read. "Hi Amy. Sam here. There's a pretty short list of reason why you'd be reading this instead of having me tell you in person, and I'm sorry about it, whichever reason it happens to be. I guess I'm supposed to offer up some sort of profound advice right now, but all I've got is the moon and a worn out collection of clichés, none of which sound very helpful, so I'll just say this: life here is a series of extraordinary highs and near misses, and maybe that's not so different from life there. So my advice is this: whatever a near miss is for you, hold off that last hit for as long as you can, and in the meantime, don't forget to enjoy the highs. And to you and Jake, have a great life. I'm so very very happy for you and I'm sorry I won't be there to watch it. Save a piece of cake for me."

There was a sudden disturbance at the door and Donna turned around just fast enough to wonder if she'd seen an appropriately eerie image: someone in grey sweats running outside.

"Should we go check on her?" Donna asked after the somber toast to Sam's memory was complete.

"Give her a minute," the Doctor replied.

Donna waited as the dancing started and the reception turned more raucous, but after at least an hour had passed, Donna left the dance floor and went to find the Doctor, who was standing against the wall.

"Has Sam come back in?" Donna asked.

"No," the Doctor replied, not looking concerned.

"In that case, minute's up," Donna said, grabbing the Doctor's arm and dragging him outside, despite his protests.

They found Sam easily, back on the same bench where she'd gone to blow bubbles before entering the reception. Annoyingly, it was even colder than it had been before.

"Are you alright?" Donna asked, sitting down next to Sam.

"Stupid gravity's too high," Sam said. "I got tired of standing."

Donna didn't doubt that this was true, but she did doubt that it had anything to do with why Sam had come outside.

"I've got another song I can't remember," Sam sighed after a moment.

"Go ahead," Donna offered.

"Call you up in the middle of the night," Sam sang quietly, voice shaking tunelessly, "Like a firefly without a light."

"You were there like a slow torch burning," Donna continued. "I was a key that could use a little turning."

"Runaway train never coming back," Sam said, skipping ahead and burying her head in her hands. "Thanks," she added.

"The maid of honor caught the bouquet," Donna said conversationally.

"Natalie," Sam supplied. "Good for her."

"Marley caught the garter," Donna added.

Sam hesitated then said, "Good for him."

"That was some speech you wrote," Donna tried.

"Sure was," Sam replied then jumped to her feet.

At first, Donna thought she was going to go back inside and continue avoiding them, but instead she began pacing in fast circles around the bench.

"Wait a second," Donna said. "I can see you."

The next time she crossed in front of them, Sam tossed the perception filter to the Doctor, who pocketed it, wordlessly.

"Marley seems to know you very well," Donna attempted. "It almost sounded like it was you speaking, not him."

"We talk to each other a lot," Sam replied shortly.

"I know how difficult this is for you," Donna began.

"Oh do you?" Sam spat with uncharacteristic venom.

Donna very narrowly managed to avoid her tendency to face any argument, aware that Sam needed a rant, not a sparring match.

"What was I thinking?" Sam finally obliged after circling the bench once more. "Going up there? I knew it was dangerous but I never actually though that I wouldn't make it back. How stupid is that? I'm not invincible. Selfish too, I never even thought about what this would do to my family!"

"You did though," Donna countered, sensing that this was getting out of hand. "You told me so when we first met. You just need to calm down and think a second."

"I need to scream," Sam shouted, pacing faster. The circles were making Donna dizzy. "I never really even bothered to meet Jake, I was busy with work and used it as an excuse and now I'll never get to fix it."

"I'm sure they understand," Donna tried.

"Then what about my nieces or nephews?" Sam cried, "the ones with the hero astronaut aunt who died before they were born. I'll never get to meet them. They'll never get to bring me to show and tell. All they'll have is a stupid journal."

Sam finally stopped pacing, directly in front of them, drew a deep breath and let it out in a long piercing scream, the sort that left Donna hoping that the walls of the reception hall were thick enough to muffle the sound for the guests and wondering if they ought to expect a visit from the police. Sam screamed for a long time, Donna lost track of how long, and when she ran out of air, the Doctor stood up.

Donna knew what would happen next, didn't even need to have seen it before to know it, and the thought made her sick. To see this remarkable person reduced to begging for her life, begging for another way out, to a man who would like nothing more than to give it to her but couldn't, was almost as horrible as the fact that she would never again walk the Earth. But it never came. What she did see she would never quite know how to describe, but the closest she would ever get was "amazing."

The Doctor took Sam by the shoulders, like he did when he was about to peek into someone's mind, but he didn't. Instead, he said three simple words, "Time thanks you," and in that strange way that happened first at the Eagle Nebula, those three words meant far more to the pair of them than they could have to anyone else. Almost immediately, they burst into identical grins then turned and raced off into the gathering dusk. A few seconds later, barely discernible against the shadows, there was a sudden explosion of dry leaves as the Doctor and Sam jumped into a pile of them. Still not quite sure what had just happened, Donna hurried to catch up, discovering them finally stretched out side by side in a large pile of leaves, gazing upwards at a wide sea of stars, and, in the center of it all, the full moon.

"No shortage of power tonight," the Doctor remarked.

"No," Sam agreed. "Although," she added, holding up a hand to block out all but a sliver of the moon, "yep, that'll help. Can you see at the south pole, it's just a little brighter? That's the largest solar array ever built, some of it will always be in the sun. No one will have to be alone up there ever again."

"Remarkable what you humans can do," the Doctor said.

"I'd like to go back now," Sam replied.

"You'll miss the cake," the Doctor pointed out.

"Actually," Sam said, "I meant go back," she pointed at the reception hall, "and then back," she pointed at the moon.

"Well then," the Doctor said, fishing the perception filter out of his pocket. "I guess you're going to need this."

"Thanks," Sam replied, taking it, but not putting it on just yet.

"Are you alright?" Donna asked, reaching out a hand to help Sam out of the leaves, still amazed at how quickly she had turned from hysteria to acceptance.

"Yeah," Sam said, brushing leaves form her clothes and starting back towards the reception. "Sorry for freaking out on you."

"Don't worry about it," Donna said. "If it were me I would have started freaking out a long time ago and wouldn't have stopped yet. I mean, bringing you here like this, it's cruel." She directed this last comment primarily at the Doctor, who stuck his hands in his pockets and continued walking, not bothering to defend himself.

"That's what I thought at first," Sam replied, "having it shown to me, just how much I won't be here for, but then I realized it's also a gift and one that most people don't get, so if this is all I'm going to get, then I'm going to make the most of it."

Donna turned back to the Doctor, prepared to berate him further on Sam's behalf, but was struck dumb by what she saw: the Doctor was grinning, a twinkle of pride in his eye. Confused, Donna turned back to Sam, hoping to ask her for insight and found her smiling widely as well.

"I'll never understand either one of you," Donna muttered, loosing patience with the strange method of communication the Doctor and Sam had developed, and hurrying ahead to get out of the cold.

--

Donna didn't see Sam again until the end of the reception, though often her eyes were drawn to her picture, sitting on a chair at the head table, and the untouched piece of cake that had been placed there, and many times as she danced she thought she caught a glimpse of someone in grey among the mass of people. Only slightly more conspicuous was the Doctor, who had resumed his station against the back wall. She considered inviting him to come and dance with her, but in the end she decided that he'd only refuse anyway.

There was one person present who looked completely out of place: Marley, who, by the looks of it, hadn't left his chair since catching the garter. When she finally grew tired of dancing, Donna decided to go and join him.

"That was a great speech you gave," Donna said, sitting down next to him.

"Thank you," Marley replied, looking startled. "It was written by a great person."

"Did you know Sam well?" Donna asked. She happened to glance over Marley's shoulder and notice the Doctor looking at her with some concern, so she waved him off. She could have a conversation without accidentally saying why she was there.

"Who did you say you were?" Marley asked.

"I didn't, sorry, Donna Noble," she replied. "I'm not a reporter or anything," she added, aware of why he'd asked, "just curious. I won't take it personally if you don't want to talk."

"Sorry," Marley replied. "It's just, everyone's been trying to get me to go on record about it."

"I understand," Donna said genuinely. "Anyway, it's always a bit awkward going to weddings where you don't know anyone."

"You too?" Marley asked.

"My boyfriend works with Jake," Donna lied easily. "He didn't want to come by himself. I don't think he realized what he was asking."

"I'm the same," Marley blurted unexpectedly.

"Really?" Donna asked, shocked. "Who's you're date?"

"Sam," Marley replied, looking downcast. "Or she would have been. She didn't want to come by herself."

"Instead it's you here by yourself," Donna said, then wished she hadn't. "Sorry," she appended. "My mouth gets away from me sometimes."

"Don't be," Marley said. "Everyone always tiptoes around the topic; it's nice to meet someone who doesn't."

"Were you close, then?" Donna asked.

"It's a quarter of a million miles to the moon," Marley said. Donna called it a dodge but didn't get the chance to ask for him to elaborate, because a moment later Marley turned pale, excused himself hastily, and practically ran for the door, as though he'd suddenly remembered that he'd left the oven on, or perhaps he'd seen a ghost.

"Sam? Are you here?" Donna whispered, but there was no response, at least none that she could perceive.

At any rate, Donna got her answer soon enough.

They were back inside the TARDIS and Donna was finally pulling on her coat when the Doctor asked, "What did you say to him?"

"Nothing! I-" Donna protested, but she stopped herself when she looked up and saw the Doctor standing there, arms crossed, expression stern, looking at Sam for an answer.

"I thanked him," Sam replied, unabashed, "and I told him to keep going."

"Those exact words?" the Doctor pressed. "'Keep going'?"

"Yes," Sam said, beginning to look confused.

"That would just about do it," the Doctor replied.

"Wait," Sam stuttered. "I said that to him before…or…I'm going to say…forget this. You know what I'm asking, answer the question."

"You said that to him at a time he'll definitely remember," the Doctor explained.

"Oh," Sam breathed. "Oops. Although, I didn't exactly expect him to be able to hear me. Donna couldn't."

"He spent months picking your voice out of the background static," the Doctor pointed out. "It's no wonder he could hear you through the perception filter."

"I didn't mean to scare him," Sam said, sounding strangely desperate. "I don't even know why I said it; I just had to say something to him."

"Were you close?" Donna asked.

"Are you going to keep asking that until you get the answer you're looking for?" Sam countered.

"Probably," Donna admitted.

"You know how it is," Sam acquiesced. "Same old story. Girl becomes an astronaut, boy becomes an astronaut. Boy becomes girl's backup. Boy and girl train together for awhile. Girl goes to the moon and boy talks to her on the radio. Girl doesn't realize that they could have had something until two time travelers come along and point it out. Girl dies. The end."

"Same old story," Donna agreed.

"Funny part is that, if we'd have figured any of this out earlier, he wouldn't be the one on the radio," Sam pointed out. "NASA rules."

"Hilarious," Donna replied.

"No, I meant-" Sam sputtered.

"I know what you meant," Donna said.


	6. Present

Disclaimer: All I own here are my ideas. The fantastic world of Doctor Who belongs to someone else, as do the songs of U2 and The Beatles. I'm just playing with the characters, and promise to put everything back where I found it.

Summary: After visiting the Planet of the Ood, Donna needs her faith in humanity restored, so the Doctor takes her to the beginning of Earth's new age of exploration. A story about adventure, sacrifice, and the consequences of a mistimed look, where history is in the future.

Spoilers: The Fires of Pompeii and Planet of the Ood.

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who has been reading and apologies to any physicists or electrical engineers out there. I tried to make the physics in this chapter as accurate as possible, but I'm sure there are some very good reasons why this couldn't happen.

**New Moon**

**Chapter 6: Present**

"Here we are then, home sweet home," the Doctor said, stepping out of the TARDIS and into the lunar outpost. Donna came out after him, followed by Sam, whose expression turned sour almost as soon as her socked feet touched the floor.

"Something's wrong," she said.

"What do you mean?" Donna asked, looking around. "Everything's fine."

"Can't you feel it?" Sam replied, hurrying to put on her radio. "How long have we been gone?"

"Fifteen seconds," the Doctor replied, sounding tense.

"You're sure?" Sam pressed, darting for the hatch to the habitation area. By the time she got back the Doctor had gone into the TARDIS to check the controls and returned.

"I'm sure," he confirmed.

"Houston, this is Odyssey," Sam said into her radio, then flipped a switch on the control box at her hip so that they'd all be able to hear the response.

"We read you, Odyssey," Marley replied in clipped tones.

"Houston, are you aware of any unusual levels in the outpost?" Sam asked, starting to pace.

"Hold one," Marley said, then added, "Can you be more specific about the nature of the concern?"

"It's just a feeling," Sam admitted. "I'm checking here, but-" Sam stopped mid sentence and mid pace and stood, looking at Donna, a look of comprehension covering her face. "Static electricity," she said into the radio.

"Say again, Odyssey," Marley replied.

"Static electricity," Sam repeated clearly, opening a drawer and pulling out a multimeter.

"Sam, the outpost is grounded," Marley said, sounding skeptical.

"I know it is," Sam replied, touching one of the probes to the floor and the other to various fixtures in the room. "I'm getting differences of five hundred Volts and climbing."

"Confirmed," Marley said. "Avionics is reporting fluctuations."

"Doctor, could the TARDIS have done this?" Sam asked after releasing the talk button on her radio.

"No," the Doctor replied, looking almost as surprised as Sam.

"Marley," Sam said, returning to the radio, "I need the shutdown codes for the computers."

"If you do that you won't be able to regulate heat and oxygen," Marley protested, "and we'll loose the downlink."

"If this keeps up we're going to start getting discharges," Sam replied, "we could lose the computers entirely. Let me do this and we can reestablish contact on ham radios if we need to."

There was a pause then Marley said, "Flight agrees, you have a go to shut down the computers. We're ready with those codes when you are."

Sam opened a cabinet and pulled out a wide notebook, then pulled a chair over to the counter, opened the notebook, and prepared a pencil.

"Go ahead, Houston," Sam said.

Donna stood and watched for a few minutes as Sam scribbled down line after line of numbers, reading back each one, and making corrections as she went. Donna was too afraid of distracting her at some critical moment to offer to help, and eventually she walked away, feeling useless. She joined the Doctor, which, unsurprisingly, didn't help, because he was busy inspecting the place with his sonic screwdriver. However, Donna knew from experience that she could ask him questions without risking catastrophe.

"How did Sam know what the problem was just by looking at me?" Donna asked. It had been troubling her ever since Sam first diagnosed the problem.

"It's your hair," the Doctor replied without looking at her. "You look like you've been playing with a balloon."

"I didn't even notice," Donna said, trying ineffectively to pat her hair down, which was indeed sticking up in all directions. "What's the big crisis, though? Why do we have to shut the computers down?"

"Thing about computers," the Doctor said, adjusting his sonic screwdriver and peering more closely at the base of the main control panel, "is that they're very useful, but they've got a few weaknesses. One of them happens to be electrical discharges. Have you ever seen what lightning does to a computer?"

Donna shook her head.

"It's not pretty," the Doctor explained. "Too much energy and pfft, gone, never to return."

"And turning off the computers keeps this from happening?" Donna asked.

"Handy little solution," the Doctor confirmed, "but not exactly ideal in a situation like this."

"Why not?" Donna pressed.

"Because we need the computers for, well, everything," the Doctor replied.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Donna offered.

"Keep asking questions," the Doctor replied, and it was only then that Donna noticed that he was holding the sonic screwdriver with two hands, and both were shaking.

"You didn't know this was going to happen, did you," Donna inferred.

"That's not the type of question I meant," the Doctor dodged.

"You're worried that we somehow caused this," Donna pressed.

"Yes," the Doctor hissed.

"Well, we've got the TARDIS," Donna pointed out. "There must be something in there that can fix this."

"Only as a last resort," Sam said from behind them, startling them both. "Sorry," she added, noticing this. She stepped passed them to work on the control panel, consulting her notebook at regular intervals.

"But it's here," Donna said. "It can help."

"It won't always be," Sam pointed out. "What if this happens again after you've left?"

"She's right," the Doctor agreed, preventing Donna from continuing the argument.

"Awful complicated way of turning off a computer," Donna pointed out instead, observing Sam as she turned switch after knob on the control panel.

"I'm turning off four computers and a server, and they weren't ever intended to be shut down all at once," Sam replied. "And the trouble's not turning them off, it's making sure they'll reboot with memory intact and that I'll have enough manual control to keep us from suffocating while they're off line."

"It can't be simple, can it?" Donna muttered.

"Of course not," Sam agreed. "You're going to want these," she added, handing them each a flashlight, then she pushed a button on her radio and said, "Houston, I'm ready for final shutdown."

"Affirmative." Marley's voice was just barely audible over the static.

"If I haven't figured this out in an hour I will attempt to reestablish contact via ham radio," Sam added.

"We'll have a solution for you by then," Marley replied.

"Not if I have one first," Sam said.

"Good luck, Sam."

"Thanks Marley, Odyssey out."

Quickly, Sam turned off her radio then threw one final switch and everything went dark. A second later there was a bright blue flash and a crack.

"Ouch!" Sam gasped.

"Just in time, then" the Doctor said.

"No kidding," Sam replied, turning on her flashlight to inspect her hand where she'd been shocked. The light was dim, but it was impossible to miss how worried she looked.

The Doctor must have noticed it too, because he turned on his own flashlight and pointed it at her. Now looking indignant as well, Sam shined hers back.

"Sam," the Doctor said, "this isn't it. This isn't the end for you."

"'Course it's not," Sam replied. "I haven't written my journal yet. I just need to solve this thing."

Sam started pacing, as she tended to do. Every few steps a spark would cross from the floor to her socked foot.

"I need to think," she muttered. "Think, think, think, why isn't the charge dissipating?"

"Static electricity doesn't just happen," the Doctor added. "It has to come from somewhere."

"Marley said this shouldn't happen," Donna pointed out. "Did something break?"

"Shouldn't have," Sam replied. "The outpost is grounded in three places."

"How is it grounded?" the Doctor asked.

"Same as buildings on Earth," Sam said, "conductive lines into the dirt, dissipates the…"

Sam paused and spun to face the Doctor, who was looking at her with an identically stunned expression.

"No," they breathed simultaneously.

"And again," Donna muttered to herself.

"Regolith sample in the second cabinet to the right of the airlock," Sam said, bounding for a nearby drawer, from which she extracted a battery and a few short wires. She then dashed over to meet the Doctor, grabbing the multimeter on the way.

The container the Doctor had found was the type of clear box that typically belonged in a laboratory, complete with a pair of sealed gloves that allowed interaction with the contents, but the only thing inside was a pile of dirt. Sam placed the battery and multimeter inside through a sliding box and put her hands into the gloves.

"Dirt holding a charge," the Doctor mused, watching Sam work.

"If it's made of the right stuff," Sam reasoned, sticking the leads from the battery and the probes from the multimeter into four different places in the dirt. "Who knows what made up the meteor that made this crater."

"In that case," the Doctor continued, "simple conductors into the dirt? Not so smart, is that?"

"They've got diodes," Sam replied defensively, tilting her head to rub her ear on her shoulder. It had just taken a shock from her hair. "Massive diodes, actually. The voltage out there must be huge. Then again, that is one big battery."

"Wait," the Doctor said. "Is that today?"

"In a few hours," Sam replied. "Might just get to see it if we don't have to abandon the outpost first."

"What?" Donna demanded. She'd understood that, at least.

"That would explain where the charge is coming from," the Doctor said.

"And why this hasn't happened before," Sam added.

"What!" Donna repeated more loudly, something of a feat. She was taking shocks on a regular basis now, and it wasn't doing anything to increase her patience with the Doctor and Sam's cryptic method of communication.

"Oh!" the Doctor exclaimed. "The diodes! The grounding was working before, and in between-"

"I'm going to ground the pair of you if someone doesn't explain what's happening," Donna said.

"It's like a bird on a power line," Sam finished. If that was intended for an explanation to Donna, then it was absolutely useless.

"That's smart, good for you," the Doctor cheered.

"And that's confirmation," Sam added, examining the multimeter.

"We still don't have a way to reverse this," the Doctor pointed out.

"We don't need to," Sam replied. "What we need is a capacitor."

Looking surprised, the Doctor simply stared at Sam for a moment.

"Samantha Farfield," the he finally said, standing back and clapping, "You never cease to amaze me."

"Save it for after we find out if this works. One grounding wire connects behind this panel," she said, tapping a wall plate near the floor. "Another is behind the opposite panel on the other side of the room. Extra wire and gloves are in here," she pulled open a drawer. "Bypass the diodes and run lines into the hab. I'll meet you there."

Without another word, Sam grabbed gloves, a wire, and four alligator clips then turned, and slipped off into the other room. Still confused by the whole situation, Donna elected to follow her, deciding that Sam was more likely to give her an understandable explanation.

"Are we going to explode?" Donna asked, fearing the answer.

"That only happens in the movies," Sam replied, pulling on her gloves and accessing a third panel like the ones she'd shown the Doctor. "Worst that can happen is something catches fire, although putting it out wouldn't exactly be pretty."

"Can't you smell that, though?" Donna asked.

"It's ozone," Sam explained. "The sparks have been creating it."

Donna fell silent, tried pacing a few times, which somehow seemed to help Sam, and eventually couldn't stand it any longer.

"Stuff like this is a lot more frightening if you don't understand what's happening," Donna burst out. "Or what the solution is."

"The Doctor and I don't really know either," Sam admitted. "All we've got is what seems like a sound theory."

"I'd like to hear it anyway," Donna replied.

"Alright," Sam said as she worked. "We figure that the sun is giving a charge to the lunar soil. Normally that wouldn't be a problem except for the sun is about to rise, which means that the voltage in the dirt is changing. The outpost has grounding wires to protect the electronics, which are connected to the dirt. Normally, current is only allowed to flow one way, but right now the voltage in the dirt is so strong that the current is being forced back into the outpost. Is any of this making sense?"

"No," Donna replied.

"Unfortunately, explaining things from the beginning would probably take several hours," Sam said, finished up with the panel and turning, of all places, to the exercise bike.

"Just skip to the solution," Donna said.

"The outpost has a power deficit," Sam explained, beginning to take covers off of the bike with a screwdriver, "but right now it's bursting with more uncontrolled energy than it can use. We can store the energy in the capacitor in this bike and use it to recharge the outpost's batteries."

"Sounds complicated," Donna said.

"Not at all," Sam replied. "Riding the bike generates energy, so it's already wired up to recharge the batteries."

"This is a lot more juice, though," the Doctor said, appearing behind them with one wire. He handed Donna a pair of gloves then the wire and went back into the other room for the second one. He returned with it a moment later.

Sam meanwhile, connected the alligator clips, and strapped a plastic line from her wrist to the floor of the outpost. She passed the Doctor another one, which he put on.

"I thought you said this wasn't complicated," Donna protested, holding her wire gingerly.

"Not complicated," Sam replied, attaching one of the alligator clips to the end of her wire using only one hand. "It's just, given a choice, we'd have a lot more insulation between us and these wires."

"Let me do this," the Doctor protested as Sam rolled up her sleeve and touched her bare elbow to the floor.

"If something goes wrong, can you take this much voltage across the chest?" Sam asked pointedly.

"Neither can you," the Doctor admitted.

"Then get down here and help me connect these," Sam ordered.

The Doctor looked like he wanted to protest, but dropped to his knees anyway. There was a spark and a crack and then the wires were connected.

"Get the other wire," Sam commanded, the tension in her voice easing.

The Doctor obliged, and soon all three wires were connected.

"Back up. Here goes," Sam said then connected the assembly to the bicycle.

As far as Donna could tell, aside from a rather large spark, there was no immediate change. In fact, she was beginning to wonder if the plan had worked at all when she noticed that Sam had relaxed considerably. Then Donna realized that a buzzing noise she hadn't even heard earlier was growing steadily fainter.

"That worked better than I thought it would," Sam said, sounding giddy.

"How did you think it was going to go?" Donna asked, not sure she actually wanted to know.

"About like that," Sam replied, standing up. "But I gave the batteries a fifty percent chance of exploding."

"Did you," Donna asked faintly.

"The capacitor had seventy-five," Sam added, crossing into the science lab. "Made of stern stuff, this place."

"It's not the only thing," Donna pointed out, following her, feeling awestruck.

Sam didn't respond, but her ears turned a faint pink, so Donna knew she'd understood.

"Saving the world," the Doctor agreed, and this time Sam's entire face turned red.

She turned away and busied herself replacing a component in one of the panels the Doctor had worked on.

"Oh, neat, you can see the inside," she remarked after a minute, a bit too off-handedly to hide the face that she was trying to change the subject.

"Oh, come one," the Doctor complained. "You're allowed to accept praise."

"Thank you," Sam sighed, placing a burned electrical component on one of the tables and picking up a spare. "Now the sooner I get these diodes replaced the sooner we can turn on the computers and do something about the ozone and the lights."

Sam had nearly passed the TARDIS on her way to the second panel when she stopped and came back.

"Thank you," she said to the Doctor.

"Don't mention it," he replied.

"Now who's not accepting praise," Sam said, waving the spare diode at him in a reprimanding manner.

"I didn't do it for the praise," the Doctor said.

"Me neither," Sam called from where she was working, "let's call if even."

Five minutes later, Sam had replaced the other two diodes and was standing in front of the control panel, contemplating a checklist.

"Something wrong?" the Doctor asked.

"I'm just trying to figure out how I'm going to explain this one to MOCR," Sam replied.

"The truth usually suits me pretty well in times like this," the Doctor suggested.

"That's a lot of qualifiers," Sam pointed out, throwing the first switches.

"I'm a time traveler," the Doctor said, "sometimes people don't take very kindly to that fact and the whole truth just slows things down."

"The whole truth is that I made modifications to the outpost without approval from the ground, nearly destroyed the batteries and the computers, and I just happened to have stepped out during the fifteen seconds that this whole crisis started," Sam said, "and, by the way, I did it all with the help of two space travelers that MOCR doesn't know are up here."

"You forgot the part about how you acted quickly and decisively to save the outpost from a unique situation that no one anticipated," the Doctor added. "And you did it on your own."

"No I didn't," Sam replied, hand hesitating over the next switches. "You both helped. You helped a lot. If you weren't here I would be sitting in front of a ham radio right now, hoping I could get off a signal."

"I was a second opinion, a sounding board for your ideas, and an extra pair of hands," the Doctor replied. "Nothing more."

"I can't take your credit," Sam protested. "It's not fair."

"Then don't do it for yourself," the Doctor suggested reluctantly. "Be the hero the world needs you to be."

Sam returned to the checklist, expression stony. After a moment she said, "That one's going in my journal."

"I know it is," the Doctor said. "And all this time I thought I got it from you."

"You did," Sam said. "It just happens that I also got it from you. Watch your eyes," she added, pressing a final button."

A moment later the lights came on and, full power, dazzling all of them. Squinting, Sam fumbled to adjust them back to their former state of semi-darkness

Sam waited until the computers had finished loading, then began running a diagnostic, switched on her radio, and cringed almost immediately.

"Odyssey here, Odyssey here," she said immediately, then adjusted the receiver so they could all here.

"Oh, Sam! Thank God!" Marley exclaimed over the sound of what might have been cheering in the background.

"Take it easy, Marley," Sam replied. "Everything's fine. I thought I said an hour. How long has it been?"

"A very long fifty-five minutes," Marley said, unabashed. "Flight ordered that I attempt to contact you with the plan. They were convinced you had a leaky battery."

"Opposite problem, actually," Sam explained. "Gather up some geologists. I'll be sending them a spectral analysis of the local regolith next chance I get."

"Why?" Marley asked.

"Because it can hold a charge," Sam replied. "On a related note, our power problems are temporarily solved."

"Flight's going to need a detailed report," Marley said.

"It's on my list," Sam replied.

"I'll leave you to it, then," Marley said. There was a brief pause, then he added, "It's good to hear your voice."

"Yours too," Sam replied genuinely.

"Good work, Sam."

"Thank you, Marley, Odyssey out."

"Oops," Sam muttered when the radio had been silenced.

"Everything going to be alright?" the Doctor asked.

"Should be," Sam replied. "I'll send MOCR this diagnostic so they can make sure there was no permanent damage, but in the meantime everything seems to be in working order. No adventures in report writing for the time travelers, then?" she added, recognizing a goodbye when she heard one.

"Never was much good at those," the Doctor replied. "Donna could check your spelling, though. Used to be a temp, she did."

"Thanks," Sam said. "But I probably shouldn't send MOCR a report with stray u's all over the place. Could lead to some awkward questions."

"Thank you," Donna said, pulling Sam into a hug. "I won't forget you."

"You either," Sam replied as they broke apart.

Sam turned to the Doctor and offered a hand to shake, but he just scoffed.

"After all this, do you really think I'm going to let you off with a handshake? Come here you." And he grabbed Sam in a big hug.

"Promise me you'll look outside sometimes, and you won't forget why you came here," the Doctor said, "why this is so important to you."

"I promise," Sam replied as they pulled apart.

"Listen," the Doctor said, sounding regretful, "about Marley…"

"I know what you're going to say," Sam interrupted, "but knowing how things are going to work out, it's really better this way. Better not to know what I'm missing."

"You're wrong," the Doctor said. "You're so wrong."

"I know," Sam replied.

"And Sam," the Doctor added, "I am so very, very sor-"

"Doctor," Sam said, "we've been over this. It's okay."

"You're amazing, you know that?" the Doctor added.

"I've got a few people who keep telling me so," Sam replied. "Maybe one day I'll deserve it."

"You already do," the Doctor said.

"Oh, wait," Sam said, reaching into her pocket. "I almost forgot to give this back." It was the TARDIS key.

"It's a gift," the Doctor replied.

"One day people are going to go through the stuff I've got up here," Sam pointed out. "They're going to wonder where I got it."

"Then they're also going to wonder where you got this," he reached out and pulled a dried leaf from her hair, "and that bottle of bubble juice," he pointed at the bulge in her pocket. "Let them."

"Thanks," Sam said, smiling.

The Doctor and Donna turned and entered the TARDIS, but Sam stopped them just as the door was about to close.

"Doctor, I have one last question."

"Go ahead," the Doctor replied, sticking his head out the door.

"How fast can the TARDIS go?"

The Doctor thought it over for a moment, then said, "It's not exactly a matter of how fast."

"It's just," Sam said, "the whole speed of light thing is supposed to be a hard and fast rule."

"Oh, that," the Doctor exclaimed. "In that case, it's a time machine; it's as fast as it needs to be. But yes, it is possible. Just because you humans haven't figured it out…"

"Thanks," Sam replied.

"Now go be amazing," the Doctor said.

"You too," Sam said.

Then the door to the TARDIS closed and the entire ship disappeared, leaving the moon's sole inhabitant alone once again.


	7. Morning

Disclaimer: All I own here are my ideas. The fantastic world of Doctor Who belongs to someone else, as do the songs of U2 and The Beatles. I'm just playing with the characters, and promise to put everything back where I found it. Also, I'm coming to realize that I owe Charles Dickens a pretty big debt for _A Christmas Carol_.

Summary: After visiting the Planet of the Ood, Donna needs her faith in humanity restored, so the Doctor takes her to the beginning of Earth's new age of exploration. A story about adventure, sacrifice, and the consequences of a mistimed look, where history is in the future.

Spoilers: The Fires of Pompeii and Planet of the Ood.

Author's Note: The song mentioned is "Here Comes the Sun" by the Beatles.

**New Moon**

**Chapter 7: Morning**

Two hours after the Doctor and Donna left in the TARDIS, a report, spectral analysis, and computer diagnostic had been submitted and the jerry-rigged electrical system was holding up fine.

Sam was pacing the outpost, reviewing the work she had to complete and reassessing the priorities she had given the different items when she crossed in front of the window in the hab and stopped. She could still see most of Europe and Africa, but her eyes were drawn immediately to England and her mind to the Doctor and Donna, and for the first time since arriving on the station she became aware of how completely and utterly alone she was. It wasn't a sad thought or a frightening one, just a thought that made her wonder why she didn't look out the window more often.

Sam reached for the button on her radio, hesitated, circuited the habitation room twice, came to a halt in front of the window, and finally pressed the button.

"Marley, are you still there?" she asked.

"Affirmative, Odyssey," came the crisp response, followed by a more leisurely, "I haven't gone anywhere. What's the trouble?"

"No trouble," Sam replied. "Just an observation."

"Go ahead."

"I am currently looking out the window at Europe," Sam explained. "and I'm talking to you. Now since Europe is basking in the late morning sunlight, I'm guessing that it can't be much later than three in the morning in Houston."

There was a pause then Marley admitted, "It's closer to four, actually."

"Ah, the old spring forward," Sam realized. "It always sneaks up on me."

"Came as a bit of a nasty shock around here, too," Marley said. "Plenty of people are still grumbling about that lost hour of sleep."

"Which brings me back to my point, actually," Sam added. "Seeing as it's four in the morning in Houston, why are you on the radio? Don't they have B shifts for these sorts of situations?"

"You don't have a B shift," Marley replied.

"There must be a backup CAPCOM somewhere who's pretty annoyed with you," Sam pointed out.

"Are you tired of talking with me?" Marley asked, sounding a little hurt.

"That's not what I said," Sam replied, "And no, I'm not."

"When I showed up last night the B CAPCOM almost refused to give up the chair," Marley agreed. "I had to find a Marine to pull rank on him."

"You did not," Sam laughed.

"I swear that's what happened," Marley said. "Ask anyone."

"So what else is new?" Sam pressed. "What's in the news?"

There was a brief pause then Marley said, "You know these conversations are recorded, right?"

"Not adhering strictly enough to protocol, am I?" Sam inferred.

"No," Marley replied.

"Sorry," Sam said. "We can stop, but I haven't spoken to anyone in weeks without having to use the word 'affirmative,' and I had a close call this morning."

"I can get a psychologist on the line," Marley offered.

"I don't want to talk to a shrink," Sam replied. "I want to have a normal conversation with a person, and since you're in to resorting to extraordinary measures to keep your chair, I figured you wouldn't mind, so, how's the weather?"

There was another pause, Marley was probably getting permission from the Flight Director, and then he said, "You've got me on that one."

"I stumped you on the weather?" Sam exclaimed. "Come on, that's standard small talk. When's the last time you were outside?"

"It's probably been at least a week," Marley said.

"You're worse than me," Sam pointed out.

"That would be impossible," Marley replied.

"Not so," Sam reasoned. "I've got these great windows. You work in a vault and apparently live there too."

"I'd have a better view if you turned on the cameras once in a while," Marley said.

"It looked like I was fixing the toilet," Sam replied defensively. "I don't need that all over the internet."

"And that little crisis we had earlier?" Marley pointed out. "We might have realized what was happening sooner if we could have seen the outpost."

"Fine," Sam said, reaching over and turning on the nearest camera, then pointing it at the window. "Although there was the matter of the power. Anyway, you're going to want to see this: sunrise."

"Don't forget to-" Marley began.

"Pull the shades," Sam finished, moving to carry out the order, "I know."

When all the darkened shades had been pulled across the windows, Sam settled down on the kitchen table to watch.

"Marley?" Sam asked after a moment.

"Go ahead," Marley replied.

"Have you ever gotten a song stuck in your head, but you only know a few lines so they just repeat over and over? And the only thing to do about it is replace it with another song you like better, and know all of?"

"Many a time," Marley said. "What's the song?"

"You really don't want to know," Sam said. "Think you can help me out?"

The radio went silent for a moment, then Marley said, "You're in luck. Instrumentation has just the thing."

A few moments later, the first bars of a recorded song sounded over the radio.

"Very appropriate," Sam laughed, recognizing it.

"We do what we can," Marley replied.

Feeling uncharacteristically giddy, she stood up and danced slightly to the music as she watched the bright yellow orb finally crest the horizon, ending her long darkness.

"Little darlin'," she couldn't help but sing along, "it's been a long, cold, lonely winter. Little darlin', it feels like years since it's been here. Here comes the sun, here comes the sun and I say, 'It's alright.'"

She wasn't the only one singing.


	8. Memory

Disclaimer: All I own here are my ideas. The fantastic world of Doctor Who belongs to someone else, as do the songs of U2 and The Beatles. I'm just playing with the characters, and promise to put everything back where I found it.

Summary: After visiting the Planet of the Ood, Donna needs her faith in humanity restored, so the Doctor takes her to the beginning of Earth's new age of exploration. A story about adventure, sacrifice, and the consequences of a mistimed look, where history is in the future.

Spoilers: The Fires of Pompeii and Planet of the Ood.

**New Moon**

**Chapter 8: Memory**

The Doctor pulled his head back inside the TARDIS and made directly for the console, where he began twirling knobs and flipping levers with more purpose than the situation seemed to warrant. Donna watched him, lingering near the ramp, lost in thought.

"I figured it out," Donna said after a few moments of this.

"Figured what out?" the Doctor replied. His voice betrayed attentiveness, but he didn't look up as he circled the console.

"Why," Donna replied.

The Doctor paused, but only for long enough for Donna to wonder if she'd seen it at all.

"Make sure you write it down," he said. "That's a question some very wise people have been trying to answer for a long time."

"Not the why of everything," Donna clarified, finally approaching. "The why we came here, the why of you."

The Doctor stopped properly this time.

"It wasn't easy either," Donna pressed on, "but I've got a theory and I think it's the right one, so I'm going to give it a try. Do me a favor and don't start correcting me until I'm finished. Can you handle that?"

The Doctor nodded, looking apprehensive.

"Right then, I suppose I'll start at the beginning, which is with a question, one that I'd never thought of before today, but it's so obvious, one of the ones that stare you in the face and you look straight past it. That question is why you came here and now, why you found Rose, Martha, and I and chose us to come along on your adventures. You're a Time Lord, you could have chosen any one of a billion people from any one of a billion worlds in any one of a trillion years, but you chose Earth, at the beginning of the 21st century, and when you think about it, that doesn't make any sense at all."

The Doctor stared at her with crossed arms, looking slightly offended, but held his silence.

"But it does make sense," Donna continued, gauging his reaction. "You pretend that you wander aimlessly, but every place we've ever gone there was a reason. And there are a lot of reasons for this, I won't try to guess them all, but part of it is the stuff that's started happening, the ghosts and the Daleks and the big rotting ships that keep crashing into Big Ben. I also know that Rose, Martha, and I weren't part of those reasons, not originally anyway, and I understand," Donna appended rapidly when the Doctor's expression turned apologetic and he began to lose his fight against the urge to speak.

"I mean, I sure as hell know you weren't looking to find me, I just popped in one day," Donna continued with an uncomfortable chuckle. "Anyway, that woman we just met, that amazing explorer wouldn't even have been there if it weren't for a bit of dumb luck, she is part of the reason, maybe even a big part."

"It's uncanny," Donna said, "how similar the two of you are. The way you act, the way you think, the way you get when you've had an idea, how you just blend into the background until someone needs you, and the way you can take command of a situation. Hell, it took you less than an hour to start finishing each other's sentences. How do you think she realized so quickly what it meant when you didn't answer her question about finding her when she was back on Earth? Honestly, if I didn't know better I'd wonder if you were related, but that's not it at all. Now she'd never met you and you'd never met her, but you're the time traveler, so I'm going to guess that sometime in her future you learned her story and were inspired by it. How am I doing?"

"That was a long time ago," the Doctor replied, cracking an inward smile. "I'd almost forgotten the way I'd play recordings of her, over and over, just to hear her speak. I never realized how much it rubbed off on me."

"She was your childhood hero," Donna breathed, "centuries before she lived she was already someone's hero."

"I wasn't always the only one with a TARDIS," the Doctor replied.

"That must've been something else, though," Donna said, grinning. "How many people can say they got to meet their childhood hero, while they were doing the exact thing that made them a hero?"

"Sure was," the Doctor confirmed. "Truth be told, I'd been putting it off, afraid I'd idealized her in my mind and she'd never live up to my expectations."

"And?" Donna prompted.

"She's brilliant. I tell you, Gallifreyan history doesn't do her justice."

"I understand though," Donna returned. "My childhood hero was Mickey Mouse."

"Mickey Mouse?" the Doctor replied incredulously.

"The one and only," Donna said. "When I was nine I finally convinced my Mum to take me on a trip to America and make Disneyland one of the stops so I could meet him. But I got there and he's just a guy in a suit, biggest disappointment I ever had."

"I'm sure," the Doctor replied, struggling not to laugh.

"Shut up, you," Donna said. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"Haven't decided yet," the Doctor replied. "You're the one who says I have a reason for everywhere I go, care to provide one?"

Donna thought about it for a moment, trying to dream up her perfect beach, but before long her thoughts drifted back to the moon.

"The entire time, Sam never asked how she's going to die," Donna said.

"No, she didn't," the Doctor said, guardedly.

"Would you have told her if she had?" Donna asked.

"No."

"Would if have helped her to know?"

"Yes."

"She's going to be alright," Donna said, mostly to reassure herself, "because you're alright, you always are, somehow."

"Ever since I heard of her, I'd thought of her death as a noble sacrifice for the good of humankind," the Doctor said quietly. "That's how everyone sees it, that's how history sees it. But now I've met her, I know what it really is: not fair. It's all those other things, but also, not fair. I wish she could have pioneered Earth's new age of exploration in fact, not just spirit."

Unexpectedly, the Doctor left the console and bounded over to a wall, where he located a book. It had all the signs of a hard loved work, with the spine bent and taped, worn corners, and numerous pages dog eared.

"What is that?" Donna asked, approaching.

"Sam's journal," the Doctor replied. "Here we go, March 10, that's today."

And he read: 'I had a thought today, an epiphany you might call it. Shot to the brain, Ebenezer Scrooge Christmas morning, 'how didn't I think of that before?' blam! Here it is: I've put off some stuff that I shouldn't have. I probably hyped that up too much. If anyone else ever reads this they'll no doubt be feeling a profound sense of anticlimax right now, but this is a big one for me. I can't complain about making a career as an astronaut. There's lots of travel, and the medical would be great if we weren't all worried about getting grounded from flight if we admit to as much as a cold, but it took a lot of single-minded determination to get here, maybe too much. For starters, I went stag to senior prom, every single company Christmas party, and, when I get back, my sister's wedding. This is what happens when you swear off dating to survive high school and make it to twenty-eight without revising the policy. Not that I'm complaining, I like my life as it is, but the curiosity is killer.

'Here's a better point. Today when I woke up, it was actually yesterday, but I didn't figure that out until later. In the meantime, I did all the usual things, getting the outpost put together, and then I saw the sun for the first time in a week. It had been below the horizon since last Thursday. I didn't even watch it set, but a week is a long time to go without daylight, and I sure wasn't going to miss seeing it rise. I know it's a habit of mine to work and keep working until the job is done or I can't work anymore, but I need to remember to look outside sometimes. I can't let myself forget what I came here for. I wanted to discover the universe, or help at least. Now here I am, and here it is, and even though my time is occupied with circuits and water supplies and checklists, maybe the rest of me doesn't have to be. Maybe the rest of me can be outside, with the Earth and the moon and the stars that look close enough to reach out and touch, with the never ending horizon, with the universe and all the funny circles it makes. I'm on the moon, and I have a job to do, but I'm on the Moon, and I'm an explorer, an adventurer. I have the windows with the best views, and I should look out them more often. That was the epiphany."

"Wow," Donna breathed.

"Yeah," the Doctor breathed.

"She didn't mention us at all," Donna pointed out.

"She couldn't," the Doctor replied. "I asked her not to tell anyone we were there."

"She didn't say anything about that business with the electricity," Donna added.

"She wouldn't," the Doctor said. "If she had, she would've had to say she came up with the solution herself."

"I wouldn't have minded," Donna replied.

"Me neither," the Doctor agreed.

"Can you read some more?" Donna asked.

The Doctor turned to the front of the book and read on.

"February 31: The moon is a beautiful place, and dangerous, almost like Earth in some ways, and different in the ones that make this an adventure. I am alone now, but lonely isn't the word for my situation, busy is, but I still think I ought to take a few minutes and record my thoughts, just in case I forget, and…just in case. There's no one here to remember for me.

'I know I took a risk coming here, know it better than most, in fact. I helped build this outpost and helped calculate the odds that I'll return to Earth alive: about 60:40. I don't think about that so much. This is worth the risk. It will still be worth it, even two days from now when the wonder wears off and the sun sets and it turns cold and the solitude sets in. It will even be worth the risk if the odds defeat me and I come back to Earth in a body bag or not at all. It's worth it, because this is the future, or the beginning of it, and we can't sit around, twiddling our thumbs, waiting for it to happen. We have to meet it, and that takes risk.

'Still, if anyone besides me ever reads this journal, it probably means that I wasn't around to argue that they shouldn't. So, on the chance that someone else is reading this, I'll just say: My name is Samantha Farfield. Most people call me Sam. I am Earth's first semi-permanent lunar resident, and this is how I lived.'


	9. Future Again

Disclaimer: All I own here are my ideas. The fantastic world of Doctor Who belongs to someone else, as do the songs of U2 and The Beatles. I'm just playing with the characters, and promise to put everything back where I found it.

Summary: After visiting the Planet of the Ood, Donna needs her faith in humanity restored, so the Doctor takes her to the beginning of Earth's new age of exploration. A story about adventure, sacrifice, and the consequences of a mistimed look, where history is in the future.

Spoilers: The Stolen Earth and Journey's End. Implied spoilers for Silence in the Library and Forest of the Dead.

Author's Note: This is the final chapter, for real this time. I hadn't planed on taking the story this far, so unfortunately, it doesn't quite gel with the story as it was previously posted, but I like it too much to let it just sit in my computer. I've made the needed corrections to the previous chapters, but to anyone who doesn't want to go back and look for the subtle changes, all that's different are the references to where and when Sam dies, which I changed from specific to ambiguous. Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed the story. Thanks for reading.

**Chapter 9: Future Again**

Too eager not to show his excitement, but too tired to show it properly, the Doctor stepped of the TARDIS and into a place he'd never been before but didn't find entirely unfamiliar. It had several similarities to an outpost he'd once visited, but was larger by a factor of ten and had many other marker showing the passage of time, both in the technology that surrounded him and in the fatigue the place showed.

"You're a dead man, Time Lord."

The speaker was standing, arms crossed, directly opposite him. The room was well lit, but she was silhouetted by a bright window showing a red tinted landscape in the midst of a spectacular sandstorm. The Doctor approached until he could see her properly. There was more grey in her hair and more wrinkles on her face, but it was, unmistakably, Sam. She was smiling widely.

"You're not," the Doctor replied, grinning.

"Noticed that, did you?" Sam said.

"Learned a lesson about jumping to conclusions, have we?" the Doctor said, pulling her into a hug.

"Why didn't you just set me straight?" Sam pressed, pulling away from the hug and punching him lightly on the shoulder.

"And tell you that you don't return to Earth because you end up joining the colony on Mars?" the Doctor asked. "I believe you were the one who brought up the Temporal Prime Directive."

"That's fictional," Sam pointed out.

"There are actual galactic laws that govern these sorts of situations," the Doctor replied. "Besides, would you have really wanted to know?"

"No," Sam admitted. "That would've taken all the fun out of it."

"There you go," the Doctor agreed. "Anyway, Donna gave me a right earful about it as soon as she figured it out."

"Is she here?" Sam asked, looking past him at the TARDIS.

"Oh, well, no," the Doctor replied, looking sullen. "We had to part ways, actually."

"I'm sorry," Sam replied genuinely. "How long has it been for you since you left?"

"A lifetime, probably longer," the Doctor said.

"Same here," Sam agreed.

The Doctor didn't respond.

"Thanks for the save," Sam said after a moment.

"Hmm?"

"That business a while back," Sam explained. "When the Earth disappeared."

"Oh."

"That was an interesting thing to wake up to," Sam continued. "Finding out that the planet I was orbiting had vanished. I figure you had something to do with why all the artificial satellites and I didn't end up flying into the sun."

"You're welcome," the Doctor replied.

"You're probably the reason why the Earth came back, too," Sam added.

"Actually, Donna deserves the credit," the Doctor corrected.

"No kidding," Sam replied, trying to mask her surprise. "Well, thanks to her."

"I'm sure she'd appreciate it," the Doctor sighed.

There was a sudden disturbance at the nearest hatch, and a man barged in. Like Sam, he looked older than the Doctor remembered, but still recognizable.

"Alright, time's up," the newcomer said. "What's this about?"

"Marley," Sam said, placing a restraining hand on his arm, "this is the Doctor, and that's the TARDIS. There's something I've been wanting to tell you for awhile."

"Oh?" Marley asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I could have phrased that better," Sam muttered. "Do you remember, the first time I saw the sun rise when I was on the moon? That was the day with the static electricity problem."

"What about it?" Marley said, still looking suspicious.

"The Doctor came to visit that day," Sam explained. "Him and a friend, actually."

"While you were on the moon."

"Yes."

"You had a visitor."

"Two visitors, if you remember."

"In that tiny outpost."

"The TARDIS was standing there in the lab, just like it's standing here now."

"Are you sure?"

"Marley," Sam sighed.

"I wouldn't have said anything then," he replied, "but you started sounding a little stir crazy around that time."

"Marley, please," Sam said, "for just a few minutes stop being a skeptic and stop being a sailor. He's standing right in front of us."

The Doctor waved in confirmation.

"Don't ask how, because it doesn't matter," Sam continued, "but he took me all over that day. I saw the eagle nebula up close, had a sandwich in a spaceport that was named after me, and I went to Amy's wedding."

"You weren't there," Marley said weakly. "I had to give that speech for you."

"You couldn't see me," Sam explained. "But you heard me. I told you to keep going."

Marley's face melted immediately from skepticism to awe.

"I remember that."

"Thought you would," Sam sighed. "I'd never seen you run so fast in my life."

"You were on the moon," Marley protested. "I spoke with you that morning, before I left for Maine, and as soon as I got back."

"That," Sam said, pointing to the TARDIS, "is a time machine. I was in both places."

"That doesn't make any sense," Marley breathed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I told you not to ask how," Sam pointed out. "I've tried, and I'm sorry, but if I can't figure it out…"

"Alright, alright," Marley muttered. "Rub it in."

"You have other uses," Sam replied, and Marley brightened slightly until she added, "Excavation, for example."

"Is that what I'm supposed to be doing right now?" Marley said innocently.

"Get out of here before I report you," Sam laughed. "Be careful, and I'll see you later."

Marley had nearly reached the hatch when he turned back and strode up to the Doctor, who'd backed away from the debate and was looking out the window.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Marley said, holding out a hand.

"And you," the Doctor replied, taking it.

"Thank you," Marley added.

"For what?" the Doctor asked, looking genuinely puzzled.

"For helping Sam before," Marley explained. "She was better after the sun rose, happier, and I suppose that probably had something to do with you as well."

"All I did was give her a nudge," the Doctor said, "but you're welcome."

"If you end up taking another side trip," Marley said to Sam as he turned once again to leave, "come and find me."

"You got it," Sam replied, and as soon as he was out of earshot she added, "That could have gone better."

"Did you expect it to?" the Doctor asked.

"Not really," Sam admitted.

"Let's see it then," the Doctor said.

"What?" Sam asked, confused.

In explanation, the Doctor took her left hand and held it up, admiring the ring there.

"Oh, that," Sam said. "Marley smuggled it and his along when he joined me on the moon, the old softy." She raised her voice for the last clause and directed it in the direction Marley had gone. "'Just in case,' he said, eventually anyway. He sat on it for five years, five, never letting on, then one day, out of the blue, he's down on one knee."

Sam paused, waiting for a response.

"All the funny circles," the Doctor obliged after a moment, though it was unclear whether he'd intended to say it out loud. He still hadn't released her hand.

"Doctor," Sam said gently.

"Sorry," he replied, snapping out of it and letting go.

"I beat you to that one," Sam fumbled, sensing the Doctor's distraction. "About the circles."

"I know you did," the Doctor said. "It applies."

"You look like Donna did," Sam added.

"How's that," the Doctor asked, not meeting Sam's eyes.

"Like you lost something you won't get back," Sam explained.

The Doctor hesitated, turned away and back then said, "I wasn't entirely honest with you about something last time."

"Just one thing?" Sam pointed out, unable to help herself.

"Fine, two things," the Doctor admitted. "Here's the second one: Last time, you asked why we came."

"You said I could use the company," Sam remembered.

"That was only part of the reason," the Doctor said. "The rest of it is that Donna had seen too much of the future, too much of the bad part, and she needed reassurance that it wasn't all like that. You seemed like the person for the job."

It took Sam a moment to decide how to respond to that.

"Did I help?" she finally asked.

"Yes," the Doctor said.

"So how about it," Sam pressed. "Why are you here this time?"

"I lost something. And I can't get it back."

"Last time," Sam said, placing a hand on the Doctor's arm, "when I thought I had at most months to live, you took me away and showed me that it would be alright whether or not I lived to see it. I can't offer the same thing, but I can offer this: you can stay here for as long as you like. There are plenty of people to talk to, a whole, mostly unexplored planet outside if you want an adventure, gardens or caves if you don't, and our record is getting much better when it comes to crises."

"I'd like that," the Doctor said.

"Let's go find you a bunk. And after that, the grand tour."

The End


End file.
